


three wishes

by nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:17:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare/pseuds/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare
Summary: Shion finds a genie's lamp, and when he rubs it, he's more preoccupied with falling for the cranky genie that comes out than making his allotted three wishes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote and posted this fic in June, 2015, and I'll be reposting it one chapter every day (even though clearly it's already completed). I'm reposting some of my old fics from the many accounts I previously deleted over the past few years, so if you're familiar with my fics and want to request that I repost a certain old fave, feel free to message me at my tumblr: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com or comment on this post: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com/post/160488980276/danielles-nezushifree-fics and I'll be happy to consider reposting it! For both my new readers and my old guys, hope you enjoy the fic!! :D

**First Wish**

Shion was staring up at the clouds, which were particularly peculiar that morning in an unnatural polka dotted pattern, so he did not notice the fraction of silver until he stubbed his toe on it and looked down.

            “Ah – ” he winced, but was distracted from the pain thrilling up his leg on sight of the smooth surface that had wounded him. It was about as big as a shell from what Shion could see, but it was clear that a portion of the offending object was buried in the sand, so Shion crouched down.

            The visible surface shone in silver splotched with rust, but was shiny enough to reflect the chicken pox of clouds above. That is, until Shion’s face interfered with that view, and he was left to blink at his own eye, reflected back at him, creased in curiosity.

            Shion touched the reflection with the tip of his finger and was startled to find it extremely cold, despite whatever amount of time it had been exposed to the sun beating down on the beach that day. Shion peered out at the tide he was walking along, wondering if it could be the source of the strange temperature, but the reach of the ocean stretched over a yard away from the mysterious object.

            Glancing back at the silver, Shion dipped his fingers into the warm sand around it and raked it carefully away, revealing more of the rusted surface. Half of his face was reflected by the time Shion had unearthed what he deemed enough of the thing to actually identify it – It was a lamp.

            An old-fashioned one, nothing Shion had ever seen the like of in real life, although he could name a certain beloved Disney movie centered around the object, and he couldn’t stop his heart from racing.

            _Don’t be dumb, Shion, of course it’s not magical…_

            Even so, he was careful not to rub his skin against it as he picked it out of the sand, grains cascading from its crevices as he lifted it and stood. He held it gingerly, palms nearly flat under it, fingers hardly curled against it.

            It was freezing on his warm skin. It contrasted the hot sand burning the soles of his feet. It seemed to shake as Shion stared at it, but then, that could have been his heartbeat, so thunderous as it had become, shaking the entirety of the frame that encased it.

            Shion glanced around. The beach wasn’t empty, but no one was looking at him. He placed the lamp carefully back on the sand and stripped his shirt, then coated his fingers with the fabric and picked up the lamp again, concealed and cool even through the thin barrier.

            As he walked back along the beach towards where he’d left his bike on the boardwalk, Shion completely forgot about the strange configuration of that morning’s clouds, his new distraction much more mystifying than any peculiar assembly of condensation.

*

The rusted lamp sat next to Shion’s desk lamp, which differed from it in appearance so greatly Shion could hardly imagine how the two items were namesakes.

            When he went to work, Shion was certain the lamp would be gone on his return.

            It was not.

            He spent the afternoon in his kitchen drafting project plans for the new greenhouse he was building. Occasionally, he’d find himself drifting to his bedroom, mug of tea in hand, sipping from it and glancing at his nightstand just to check that two lamps remained.

            He fell asleep that night staring at his own heavy-lidded reflection in the rusted silver, reminding himself under his breath that it was not magical, it was not magical, it was not magical…

*

A week passed, and Shion had not touched the lamp again but for a small flutter of fingertips on the fifth day, just against the handle, just to check the temperature.

            It was still frigid.

            On day seven, Shion realized the lamp was taking over his life. He spent hours in bed staring at it. He found himself drifting to his bedroom at odd moments of the day out of a newly formed habit to simply stand against his doorframe and watch it. Even work could not distract him, and he would glance too many times at his watch, impatient for the moment he could return home to check his lamp.

            He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. A sign, he supposed, but Shion knew how the myth went.

            The object would be inanimate until he rubbed its side.

            Even the thought was foolish. Shion hardly let himself think it. Maybe in the shower. Maybe while he waited for his coffee to brew. Maybe while he dressed. Maybe during meetings at work. Maybe on the drive in to the office and the drive back. Maybe two, three, four times in between.

            But that was it. Shion was not getting his hopes up.

            Besides, it wasn’t all hope. There was a certain amount of fear. The responsibility of three wishes. How could he, a 25-year-old ecologist, possibly know what to do with three unrestricted wishes?

            Sometimes, he thought about what his three wishes would be, during those accidental times when his mind would wander. But on every such occasion, a headache would ensue, and Shion would just feel nervous, anxious, fingers pulling at the sleeves of his shirts and his breathing slightly heavier.

            It was simply too much. He didn’t have any right to three wishes. What had he done in his life to deserve them?

            But then, what could give him the right for three wishes? Who deserved them? Did anyone? And why did they have to be deserved anyway? Why did they have to be earned?

            What was wrong with chance?

            On the eighth day, Shion contemplated taking the lamp back to the beach beneath the safe fabric of another t-shirt and chucking it back in the ocean to be washed up in front of someone else’s path. Let some other person stub their toe on fate. Give someone else the pressure of three wishes.

            In this vein, Shion found solace for only an hour, where he’d all but left his apartment before coming to the cold realization that this could be a horrible mistake. What if the new owner of the lamp was a psychopath? A murderer? Evil in some way or another, or at least, if not evil, then less morally respectable than Shion himself?

            Was he putting the entirety of civilization in danger with this rash decision?

            And so the lamp was returned, with somewhat more anger than eight days previous, to the nightstand beside the desk lamp. Shion glared at it for a minute, full of so much contempt he hardly acknowledged the thrill of relief that slipped warmly through him.

            On day eleven, he was unraveling. Shion considered more than once telling his mother, his confidant for all other aspects of his life, but every time he opened his mouth to voice his predicament, a separate set of syllables entirely would slip out accidentally. The topic would be changed, and Shion would lose his nerve, sitting in his mother’s bakery picking at a muffin and thinking about the second lamp on his nightstand, the urge to check on it overwhelming him.

            He didn’t rub the lamp until more than two weeks had passed, on day sixteen.

*

Shion sat in front of the kitchen table, and the lamp sat on top of the kitchen table, which Shion had cleared of all other items. He glanced at the clock on his microwave and noted that it was 5:34. He mentally logged this.

            The exact time his life would change.

            _Stop getting ahead of yourself, Shion, it’s just a lamp._

            Shion picked it up carefully, the cool of it immediately threatening his fingertips with the stain of frostbite. He rearranged it in his hands so that it rested securely, and one thumb was free to fall against the silver side.

            His reflection peered excitedly back at him around his shaking fingers.

            Shion took a deep breath, then rubbed his thumb back and forth over the shining surface, counting the strokes of the pad of his thumb under his breath.

            _One…two…three…four…five…six—_

            Shion’s excitement had just begun to fade at the edges when the lamp jerked violently in his hands, and he dropped it out of surprise, watching it clatter loudly to the kitchen table where it fell on its side before instantly righting itself.

            It shook violently, the silver twanging against the smooth surface of Shion’s wooden table, and then it suddenly stilled, as did the inhale in Shion’s lungs.

            The kitchen was oddly quiet in the abrupt absence of the lamp’s clatter, and Shion could hear the hum of the fridge in an eerie way that seemed to fill his entire head.

            A second passed, and then another, and the breath was released from Shion’s lungs, had nearly slipped out of his slackened lips when smoke began to drift out of the lamp’s spout.

            Shion watched it curl into his kitchen, mesmerized, waiting for the smoke to take form of a genie, but instead it simply flocked to the edges of his apartment. It filled his kitchen as any smoke would, more and more pouring out of the lamp like something inside of it was burning.

            Shion reached out, touched the side of it, but it was still ice cold, and then he pulled his fingers away, jumping in his chair, as the fire alarm went off, startling him.

            Shion stared desperately at the lamp, but it gave no sign of stopping its ruthless pollution of Shion’s apartment. He jumped off his seat and ran to his window, opening it before climbing up on his kitchen table with a towel that he reached out to wave in front of his fire alarm.

            “Shh, it’s not a fire, it’s not a fire!” Shion said, exasperated, waving the towel harder in a way he hoped was wafting the smoke out the window, but if anything, it seemed to be collecting more densely around Shion. Soon enough he could see nothing but dusky space and the faint blinking red light of his fire alarm, struggling to be seen through the fog.

            “Please stop!” Shion pleaded, closing his eyes, as they were burning from the smoke. He did not know if he was talking to the smoke-emitting lamp or the still-blaring fire alarm, but it was neither of these objects that replied.

            Instead, the voice that settled in the smoke was cool and low and had Shion gasping a throatful of smoke.

            “Will you get that thing to shut up already? No, I can’t wait for you to finish your pathetic attempts. I’ve already got a headache, I’ll just deal with it. Just out of the lamp and already working, that’s nice, just what I need,” said the voice, a monologue of words that Shion listened to with his eyes still closed, his towel-wielding arm falling limply to his side.

            The blearing alarm silenced immediately. Shion exhaled the smoke from his throat and inhaled slowly; the air was suddenly clean.

            After two more breaths, he opened his eyes and turned to the source of the voice, which was the kitchen chair where he had previously been sitting – or more accurately, the new occupant of the kitchen chair, who was looking right back at Shion.

            The first thing Shion noticed was that the eyes staring back at him were the same color of the lamp, a shining silver that seemed to reflect Shion’s eyes right back at him.

            The second thing Shion noticed was that there was a stranger in his house, sitting on his chair, looking at him in an amused sort of way, and as intriguing as the first thing was, Shion decided it might be most prudent to focus currently on the second.

            He was still standing on his kitchen table, and climbed off, not taking his eyes from the stranger’s.

            “I know you can speak,” the man said, expression unchanged from the original amusement. “I heard you talking to that fire alarm, after all. So you really have no excuse for the rudeness of not introducing yourself, or at least offering me a cup of water. The smoke dries my throat every time, unfortunately.”

            Shion was not unintelligent. In fact, he was rather smart, and therefore no amateur at putting two-and-two together, and the two-and-two at hand happened to be the silver lamp and the silver-eyed man sitting in front of it.

            This, clearly, had to be the genie.

            The problem arose in the fact that he in no way or form resembled a genie. He was simply a man.

            A beautiful man, Shion was able to note, amidst his shock. Stunning, actually, and maybe in that there was _something_ unearthly about him, but it was much subtler than what Shion had been expecting, which was a wispy tail instead of legs, or a shimmering glow around his edges, or maybe even blue skin, if Disney was to be trusted.

            The stranger’s only harkening back to the movie Shion had based his assumptions around were the silver bands around his wrists that matched the hue of his lamp and eyes. Cuffs of his servitude, Shion assumed.

            “Yo, Your Majesty, you frozen in shock or something? I hate that routine, it’s trite. Get over the shock and make a move, I’m really thirsty here.”

            Shion turned his gaze from the eyes to the lips, watched the way they moved, felt as though he could even see the sound drifting out of them into the space of kitchen between them. He comprehended the sound as if in an echo, and Shion understood what the man was asking, but he couldn’t seem to move.

            _Frozen in shock. Trite._

            It was hardly fair, Shion couldn’t help but think. The genie was used to popping in on unsuspecting people, of course he’d be bored with the routine. On the other hand, this was Shion’s first genie. Of course he’d feel some shock. He hardly felt he should be labeled _trite_ for it.

            The man – or genie, as Shion was still comprehending – narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make me conjure my own water. I already cleared your house of smoke and silenced that alarm. That’s enough for one minute, don’t you think?”

            It was the smugness that thawed Shion’s silence. There was something distinctly mocking in that tone and the curve of the genie’s lips into a smirk.

            He was teasing Shion, and there was something unavoidably maddening about this stranger appearing with such an unnecessary commotion and then having the nerve to mock Shion in his own house.

            “Don’t just take credit for getting rid of the smoke and silencing the alarm when we both know you’re the one who caused both of those things,” Shion said, pointing accusingly at the genie, who seemed surprised by Shion’s outburst, his eyebrows raising under the sweep of his bangs.

            His hair was inky and dark, and Shion realized it was the same charred shade as the rust on the silver lamp.

            The genie raised a finger and traced his top lip, peering at Shion with a heavy gaze.

            “Hmm, is that so? Well, you’re the one who rubbed my lamp, so it just comes back to you, doesn’t it?”

            Shion blinked, trying to see a way out of the accusation, but the genie was right, and Shion acknowledged this logic with a smile.

            “Okay, you win,” he said, then turned away from the genie to pour him a glass of water, nearly spilling it in his haste to look at the genie again, double check that the man was still sitting in his kitchen chair, watching him.

            He placed the cup of water gently on the counter in front of the genie beside the lamp, then sat in the seat across from him.

            “Thank you, Your Majesty,” the genie said, bowing his head slightly at Shion before taking a sip of water, but never lifting his gaze from Shion’s.

            “My name is Shion,” Shion said, resting his forearms on his kitchen table to lean slightly closer to the stranger.

            “Names hardly matter. You rubbed my lamp, so you’re my master for three wishes. I’ll call you Your Majesty as I’ve called all the others,” the genie replied, in a tone that was more straightforward than anything, blunt and honest.

            “If you want,” Shion said, although he was somewhat bothered without knowing why. “What should I call you?”

            “Nezumi,” the genie replied, picking up the glass to down the rest of the water, and he replaced it to the counter with a sharp clink.

            “Nezumi?” Shion asked, but he was not offered elaboration.

            Instead, the genie was sliding his chair back with the scratch of its legs on the linoleum floor and standing up. Shion watched him stretch, the black hem of his t-shirt rising to reveal a strip of pale skin that looked so incredibly human.

            “That freaking lamp is so cramped,” the genie complained, arms above his head, and then they were in front of him, fingers weaved together and knuckles cracked. “Let’s get this over with. Do you need the spiel?”

            “What?” Shion asked, tearing his eyes from the no longer visible strip of exposed waist to blink at the genie’s bored expression.

            “The spiel, the rules, the whole – I’m your genie, you’re my master, three wishes, blah blah blah, no take backs, that tired crap.”

            “Um, I guess not,” Shion replied, as the genie clearly did not wish to go through it all, and Shion had no wish to annoy him. “Unless, I mean – Should I know of any wishes you can’t grant? Or time frames in which the wishes need to be requested? Or separate time frames in which the wishes may be enacted – ”

            “Yeah, okay, you need the spiel,” the genie – Nezumi – said, holding out a hand to stop Shion and sighing with heaving shoulders.

            Shion traced the lines of Nezumi’s collarbones with his gaze to where they disappeared under the fabric of his t-shirt.

            “You get three wishes, then I’m gone. Till then, you put me up. That means housing and food. I can conjure my own shit, but I don’t want to, and honestly, I’m granting you three freaking wishes, so room and board is the least you could do,” Nezumi said, glaring in a threatening sort of way.

            “Don’t you live in there?” Shion asked, pointing at the lamp on the kitchen table, and Nezumi cast an angry look at it.

            “Not when I don’t have to. For the duration of your ownership, you get to house me, cause like I said, it’s freaking cramped. You try fitting yourself in there before telling me to stuff myself back in, why don’t you?”

            “Okay, it was just a question, you don’t have to be rude, you know,” Shion said, and he expected Nezumi to be angry, but instead, the genie’s amused look returned.

            He grinned, a slight upturn of his lips, and Shion bit the inside of his cheek, his stomach flipping.

            The genie was really beautiful. Shion wondered if he had the power to change his own appearance, but before he could ask, the genie was speaking again.

            “Next. There’s no time frame for the wishes. You can take as long as you want or bang them all out right here, right now. But as long as you take, you deal with me, and you better not piss me off. I’m almighty, mind you. I can make your life hell. So next time I ask for water, you might want to skip to it,” Nezumi said, running his fingers through his bangs.

            They fell like silk over his skin. Shion nodded to show he was listening and comprehending and not distracted by the way his heartbeat was shaking his entire body.

            “I grant wishes instantaneously. If you ask for a million bucks, you get it right now. You’ve not allowed to ask for a million bucks in a year or do some weird payment plan. I don’t do that future shit. Mostly because you never know if I’ll even be here in a year, and then I won’t be able to grant your wish – It just gets messy and ruins my ratings. Instant gratification wishes only, got it?”

            His movements were more graceful than a normal human’s, Shion thought, watching his gestures carefully. Perhaps this was more of the supernatural aspect.

            “Other things I won’t do – not to say I can’t, because I can do anything. But I won’t because it gets messy, and I don’t like to clean messes. You got that, kid? Don’t make a mess. No time traveling. No unlimited anything. That includes money. That includes cats. That includes orgasm duration. No, I will not grant you an unlimited orgasm. Some asshole asked for that last time. Really? I mean, I get some bullshit requests, but jeez, cut me a break, you know?”

            “I wouldn’t ask for that,” Shion pointed out, but Nezumi didn’t soften his stern look.

            “You better not. And if you did, you wouldn’t get it. No unlimited. No time traveling. And none of that ‘more wishes’ shit, although I hardly think I should have to point that out, but no, you’d be surprised at the stupidity of humanity. Increasing by the day, it’s disgusting.”

            “Is that it?” Shion asked, when Nezumi didn’t continue. “What about, I don’t know, you can’t bring anyone back from the dead? Or kill anyone? Or make someone fall in love?”

            Nezumi waved his hand uninterestedly. “Yeah, I can do all that, didn’t I say I could do anything? Oh, but one more. No world peace. I mean, it’s possible, but like I said, instant gratification. The world would be peaceful for a second, then back to its natural fucked up self. So it’s a bit of a waste of a wish, if you ask me, and it’s a lot of work on my part for just a second. Don’t ask me to do that. It’s a waste of my time and effort.”

            Shion crossed his arms and leaned against his kitchen table. “You have a very pessimistic view on humanity,” he observed. “For someone who possesses actual magic, who can offer miracles, I’m surprised that you don’t think the world can retain peace for more than a second if given the chance.”

            Nezumi laughed, then sobered quickly, shaking his head at Shion. “A naïve one, aren’t you, Your Majesty? Look, kid, I’ve done it all before, I’ve seen this in action. I’m not pessimistic. I’m realistic. Humanity rejects magic. The world spurns peace. It’s pretty shitty, but hey, don’t worry yourself with that, you’ve got three wishes, life is good, stay in your bubble and you’ll be fine.”

            Shion grit his teeth. The genie was condescending, and he hated it, but he didn’t have a reply.

            After all, if Nezumi could be trusted, then he’d seen the world reject peace, and that was as solid evidence of his claims as any. Shion couldn’t argue with fact.

            “So, you got a first wish, or you want to mull on it? How about that appearance, you humans are all about that, right? Fitting in with standardized beauty? I can deal with that hair and scar and those eyes, all for one wish. Three in one, I’ll make you a deal. See? I’m generous.”

            Shion lifted his hand, touched the scar on his throat with the tips of his fingers, although he was sure the presence of Nezumi’s gaze was even more tangible than his own brief touch.

            “I don’t want to change my appearance,” he said, more quietly than he’d intended, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or if it truly was relief that settled for the briefest of moments on the genie’s expression.

            “That’s a first, Your Majesty, but glad to hear it. You’re pretty cute, it’d be a waste,” Nezumi said casually, and Shion couldn’t tell if this was more teasing or not.

            It hardly mattered to his pulse, which spread hotly over his skin.

            The genie’s smirk returned, and that certainly didn’t help the temperature of Shion’s skin.

            “Thank you,” Shion replied, thinking he should say something, as the genie was just staring at him again.

            “I live to please, Your Majesty,” Nezumi said, bowing his head. “So, what’s your first wish, then?”

            Shion swallowed. “I don’t know yet.” He had to think, but it was hard to do with the silver eyes staring at him.

            Nezumi shrugged. “Take your time, Your Majesty. And while you’re taking it, direct me to my bed.”

            Shion glanced back at the microwave clock, which revealed that it was hardly after six. “You’re going to bed already?”

            It occurred to him that genies might have different sleep patterns entirely, but Shion did not want to end his first conversation with the genie just yet.

            “Hey, I cleaned your place of smoke and silenced your alarm, let me remind you. That takes work, Your Majesty, it’s not all as effortless as I make it seem.”

            Shion smiled, unable to resist at the genie’s disgruntled expression.

            “Okay, come with me,” he said, walking past the genie and looking over his shoulder to see Nezumi following him, long limbed and graceful.

            He led Nezumi to his bedroom.

            “This is the only bed in my apartment. We can share,” he offered, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful.

            “Share? I just came out of a cramped lamp, you think I am in any mood to share anything? You can sleep on the floor,” the genie said, already walking past Shion, who noted that he had brought the lamp from the kitchen.

            Nezumi set it carefully back on the nightstand beside Shion’s desk lamp, then pulled off his t-shirt.

            “I’m not going to sleep on the floor,” Shion said, to remind himself that he could be coherent despite the difficulty in such an act threatened by the presence of the shirtless genie.

            The genie narrowed his eyes. “Do you hog blankets?”

            “No.”

            “Don’t lie to your genie,” he warned.

            “I wouldn’t lie to you, Nezumi,” Shion replied, and Nezumi’s eyes narrowed further.

            “Huh. Fine, we’ll share. Find me a towel, will you? I’ve got to take a shower, I reek of smoke.”

            “The bathroom’s the room next to this one. There are clean towels in the closet. Help yourself.”

            “Have you got a spare toothbrush?” Nezumi asked, and Shion was slightly surprised that personal hygiene didn’t just come naturally to genies.

            “Can’t you just use your powers to clean your teeth?”

            “Keep your suggestions on what I do with my powers to yourself and answer my question.”

            “Yes, cabinet under the sink.”

            “Have you got that two-in-one shampoo and conditioner shit, or do you have separate bottles?”

            “Two-in-one,” Shion replied, and the genie sighed.

            “Head out and buy the separate bottles by tomorrow. That two-in-one is a scam.”

            Shion smiled, glancing at the genie’s hair. So the silky-looking texture wasn’t magic. It was just separate conditioner. “Anything else, Nezumi?”

            Nezumi watched him suspiciously. “That’s it for now, Your Majesty.”

            “If you need anything, just ask,” Shion replied, and he watched the genie walk out of his bedroom, stopping at the doorway to cast another glance at Shion before disappearing from view.

*

Genies kick in their sleep.

            Or, at the very least, Shion’s genie kicked in his sleep, but Shion supposed, on second thought, that assumptions on all genie behavior could not be concluded from a single case study.

            In any case, it was a good thing Shion wasn’t the least bit tired, or he might have been upset with his genie’s relentless nighttime energy. As it was, Shion probably would not have slept anyway, what with his mind reeling with the newfound information that genies indeed existed, as did magic, and he was in possession of both for the duration of three wishes.

            There was, of course, the subject of what wishes Shion might ask for, but his thoughts hardly had time to touch upon the topic what with everything else he was thinking, added to the fact that it was hard to think too deeply at all, what with the genie beside him, constantly reminding Shion of his presence with kicks and elbows and loud sighs.

            The genie, it would appear, had nightmares, and simply watching him took up a large portion of Shion’s night, leaving not much time at all to ruminate on the rest of the thoughts the genie’s newfound presence in Shion’s life triggered.

            It was Shion that woke first, from the brief half hour of sleep he’d managed to steal. He had not forgotten the genie’s presence in his sleep – and in fact was pretty sure he’d dreamed of him, though he couldn’t quite remember exactly – so it was no shock to open his eyes to the man beside him.

            Shion glanced at the clock, noted that it was finally an acceptable hour for him to wake, and so he sat up slowly, careful not to disturb his genie. The man sleeping beside him did so with fists that curled so tightly around the blanket he hogged that his knuckles were a shade lighter than his already snow-white skin. With eyes closed, he almost seemed a different man than that which had come from the lamp on Shion’s nightstand. Although his hands were fists, his expression was peaceful, soft lips parted just slightly, breaths even and quiet. His hair fell around his forehead, neck, and the pillowcase in an inky stain that Shion wanted to run his fingers through.

            He wore a loose white shirt that his tossing and turning had dragged from the shoulder on the bed and pinned to the mattress so that a large amount of skin was visible, an entire collarbone, half a shoulder, part of an arm. Shion reached out without realizing it, only noticing when his own hand came between his view of Nezumi’s skin, and he jerked his hand back sheepishly, clutching his own shirt instead.

            His desire to touch this genie was strange and undeniable, and Shion blamed the fact that Nezumi was something magical, of course he’d be tempting, of course he’d be fascinating.

            He was also beautiful, and Shion was undoubtedly attracted to him. It was illogical to deny his own feelings – at least, not to himself – and Shion was certain most people would share them with one glimpse of the genie.

            As Shion acknowledged this, the genie’s eyes opened, and Shion watched him blink and stretch like a cat, hands uncurling from the blanket to rise above his head.

            “Good morning, Nezumi,” Shion said, and the genie looked up at him, sleepy eyes less focused than they’d been the day before, a muted version of their previous intensity.

            The genie blinked, and the sleepiness disappeared, the intensity returning fully.

            “Are you staring at me? That’s creepy.”

            “You’re really beautiful, almost unnaturally so. Did you use magic to make yourself this way, or are all genies so stunning? How many genies are in existence, anyway? Do you know others? Have you met them? Can you communicate with them within your lamp? Are you the only one? Do others live in your lamp with you? Is there a community of genies, or are the constructs of the genie social world so different than that of us humans that I wouldn’t even be able to comprehend the way you interact with – ”

            “Okay, stop, stop!” Nezumi grumbled, sitting up and pressing his palm to Shion’s mouth, silencing him. “Too many questions for so early in the morning. For any time, actually, don’t ask me things, your question quota is up and from now on limited to wishes only.”

            His skin was warm. Shion opened his lips against it and pressed his tongue to the crease in the genie’s palm.

            “Ah! What the – ? You licked me! That’s against the rules, you’re not allowed to lick your genie!” Nezumi snapped, hand retracted and held against his chest as if Shion had stabbed it.

            Shion shrugged. “I couldn’t breathe.”

            “You have a nose for a reason, you know.”

            “Your skin is warm. Is your central nervous system the same as a human’s? I don’t understand your biology. You look like any other human, perhaps more visually stunning, but anatomy-wise, I can’t detect any difference, yet you are able to fit in your lamp – ”

            “Didn’t I say something about shutting up? And stop calling me stunning. Nobody says things like that, you know, you can’t just go around saying every thought that pops into your head. First of all, it’s annoying. Second of all, you sound like an idiot,” Nezumi said, sternly.

            “You weren’t wearing that shirt yesterday,” Shion noted, examining Nezumi’s wrinkled white t-shirt that still hung loosely off one shoulder. “Did you get it from your lamp? How much space is in there anyway? Or is there no space at all, merely a void that can be reconfigured at your will into whatever it is you – ”

            “Hey! Seriously, shut up! How do you put up with yourself? Have you thought of any wishes? Can you just ask them now and let me get out of here? I think you might be insane,” Nezumi said, eyes wide, moving back as he spoke until he was sliding off the bed. He stood, and Shion climbed off the bed as well, stretching before replying.

            “I haven’t thought of anything to wish for yet, sorry. Are you hungry? Do you like eggs? Do you eat human food, or is there anything you’d like me to purchase that I might not have?”

            “I will eat anything if you stop asking me questions,” the genie sighed, fingers weaved in his hair and pulling, voice tired and strained.

            Shion smiled. “Okay. Give me a few minutes to get it ready.” Shion left the genie in his room and quickly used the bathroom before heading to the kitchen and cracking a few eggs in the frying pan. He wasn’t used to cooking for two, and always ate breakfast alone, but he liked the thought of a change in this routine.

             Nezumi announced himself with a racket of the kitchen chair dragging against linoleum, and Shion glanced up from his pan.

            “I hope you like scrambled.”

            “It’s fine. Tea?”

            “Oh, could you put it on? The kettle is on the counter.”

            “Is this one of your wishes, Your Majesty?”

            “No, it’s a simple request from one roommate to another. If brewing tea is too exhausting for you, I’d be fine to do it myself,” Shion replied, glancing at his lazy genie, who glared back, but at the same time, slumped out of his seat.

            “I’m not your house slave, you know,” Nezumi muttered, his hip bumping Shion’s as he reached over the stove for the kettle.

            “Careful, you’ll burn yourself,” Shion breathed, the proximity of Nezumi’s body to his intoxicating.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Can you burn yourself? Can you even be injured? Are you immortal?”

            “If you want me to answer your questions, you have to wish for it. Otherwise, you’re getting nothing, so you might as well stop yapping. You’re like a puppy that hasn’t been trained,” Nezumi muttered, bending down to see if the gas under the kettle went on as he turned the knob.

            “You have to jiggle that one a few times before it’ll light the stove.”

            “Goddammit,” Nezumi cursed, still struggling, so Shion lightly brushed the genie’s hand aside and turned on the stove himself.

            “It’s called patience, Nezumi.”

            “Speaking of, I’m running out of it,” Nezumi said, straightening up and fixing Shion with a narrowed stare. “What’s your first wish?”

            “I don’t know yet. We can talk about it more after I get back from work,” Shion said, turning the burner off under the pan of eggs and splitting them on two plates.

            “After you – Are you serious? You’re going to go to work? You don’t have to work another day of your life!” the genie said, taking his plate and sitting across from Shion at the table.

            Shion salted his eggs before passing the shaker to Nezumi. “I like working.”

            “A genie is wasted on you,” Nezumi said, pointing his fork at Shion accusatorily.

            “I have to pick my wishes carefully. They need to mean something.”

            “Don’t give me that ‘money can’t buy happiness’ crap.”

            Shion set down his fork and contemplated the genie before him, who seemed rather annoyed. “No, I don’t believe that,” Shion said, slowly. “Money can certainly buy security, shelter, food, items that offer their owner self-confidence and status, all things that can create happiness. But I’m not looking for my own happiness. I already am happy, or at least, happy enough. I don’t need three wishes, really. What I’m looking to do is to wish for something that can benefit others, in a real and substantial way.”

            Nezumi stared at Shion for a good five seconds, then shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “Lovely, another altruistic type. You’re the most annoying of all, you know that? Don’t worry, soon enough you’ll realize there’s nothing you can do to save the world, and you’ll end up wishing for the shallow things too. It always happens, Your Majesty, it’s nothing personal, don’t be upset, I’ve just seen it many times.”

            “Maybe you’ve seen it, but I haven’t, so forgive me for not giving up because you tell me to. These are my wishes, after all, not yours,” Shion replied easily. The genie’s lack of faith in any unselfish act saddened Shion, but didn’t discourage him. If a genie could be real, then surely some kind of worthwhile unselfish wish was feasible as well.

            “Suit yourself, Your Majesty,” the genie said, and Shion was forbidden any chance to resume his earlier line of questioning on a glance at the clock, which informed him that he was close to being late to work.

            “Ah, sorry, excuse me, I’ve got to go!” he said quickly to Nezumi, jumping up and rushing to his bedroom to change.

            A minute later, Shion’s shirt was on but unbuttoned, his tie hung loosely around his collar, and he was yanking up his pants when he caught sight of the genie in his doorway – open out of habit, as Shion had lived alone for years and had no reason to close it.

            Now, however, the reason watched him with unashamed grey eyes.

            “Hey! – Ow – ” Shion tripped on the leg of his pants and only just stopped himself from falling, but the effort had him bumping his knee hard on the corner of his bed.

            “You’re seriously going to work? What am I supposed to do all day?” Nezumi asked, from the doorway, not seeming to notice Shion’s struggles to dress himself.

            When Shion finally managed to pull on his pants, he glanced at the genie in his doorway.

            “I don’t know. What are your hobbies?”

            “Making dreams come true,” Nezumi replied in a sing-song voice, and Shion had a strong feeling he was being sarcastic, but he didn’t have time to deal with sarcastic genies at the moment, as he was going to be really late.

            He slid past Nezumi as he buttoned his shirt and glanced back over his shoulder. “Well, if you don’t have hobbies, you could walk around town. I don’t know how much time you get to explore your surroundings, so now can be a good time to do some sightseeing.”

            “Sightseeing?” Nezumi asked skeptically, as if Shion had suggested something grotesque. The genie had followed Shion to his front door, which Shion opened before turning around.

            “Yeah. Sightseeing. You might have fun. I’ll see you later, Nezumi, there’s money in the bottom drawer of my nightstand, so feel free to get ice cream or lunch if you get hungry. The grocery store is two blocks to the left, if you want to stock the fridge with stuff you like.”

            “You’re kidding me, right?” the genie asked, but Shion didn’t have time to assure him he was not kidding at all, and merely opted for a smile before closing the door gently behind him.

*

On returning home, the genie was found in the kitchen, covered in flour.

            Shion hid his smile by bending down to untie his shoes. “Hey, Nezumi,” he said, to his laces, then straightened back up.

            As he pulled his tie loose, the genie glanced at him. “I’m baking a cake.”

            “That’s exciting. My mom’s a baker.”

            “It’s not working,” Nezumi said, rubbing his fingers through his hair and adding another layer of flour to the dark locks.

            “Are you using a recipe?”

            Instead of replying, Nezumi used his arm to sweep the bowl, whisk, bag of flour, and measuring cups into the sink in a grand, dramatic, and completely unnecessary gesture. “Baking is not my hobby, I’ve decided,” he said, in a tone that invited no further entry into the conversation, so Shion merely nodded.

            “Okay,” he said, trying not to smile at the disgruntled genie in his kitchen.

            The genie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your first wish?”

            “I didn’t have time to think about it at work,” Shion replied, pushing Nezumi gently aside to retrieve his bag of flour from the sink.

            Nezumi leaned next to him with arms crossed over his chest. “What do you do, anyway?”

            “I’m an ecologist,” Shion replied.

            “Ah, of course. Save the trees. Makes sense.”

            “Wait – I have an idea for my first wish!” Shion exclaimed, turning away from the sink to give his genie his full attention.

            A flour-covered eyebrow rose marginally. “Go on, Your Majesty.”

            “What would happen if I wished for the world to be clean of all pollution?” Shion asked. It wasn’t world peace, but the emission of factories and other pollutants was a fight Shion battled every day. Reducing production of pollution in the future was one of the main goals of his company – to rid it completely was unheard of, but with magic, with this silver-eyed genie, maybe it was possible.

            Nezumi stared at Shion for a second, then shook his head. “Impossible.”

            “But – ”

            “Didn’t I tell you no unlimiteds? I can clean your air right now of all pollution, but that doesn’t stop factories from spilling waste on the surface I just cleaned a second later. I can clean the mess humanity has made, but I can’t stop you guys from making another, and knowing people, you don’t really learn from your mistakes.”

            “That’s not true. People know more about fossil fuels and the dangers of pollutants now, and real steps are being taken to diminish them,” Shion objected.

            “It’s your wish, Your Majesty. If you want to waste it on something that will simply be reversed in a few months, be my guest.”

            “It’ll take much longer than months to reverse this,” Shion argued, but Nezumi just gave him a bored look, as if he truly did not care about the health of the planet he lived in.

            “Do you want to waste your wish or not?”

            “It’s not a waste!”

            “Then go ahead, Your Majesty, say the word, and your wish is my command.”

            Shion crossed his arms over his chest. “Only if you admit that the wish isn’t a waste.”

            “Why would I do that? It is a waste.”

            “No, it’s not! Don’t you care about the planet? Why are you always so cynical about everything?” Shion demanded, unsure why he was upset about this, unsure why his hands were in fists.

            The genie watched him silently for a minute, and Shion was sure he wouldn’t reply, but then he sighed and brushed his fingers back and forth through his bangs, dusting the flour out in a flurry of wispy snow. He addressed Shion only when he dropped his hand from his hair.

            “I’m cynical because I’ve seen real magic, Your Majesty, I’ve seen some amazing things, some truly beautiful things. And every time, I’ve seen how quickly it’s been destroyed or reversed. I can’t tell you your wish won’t be a waste, but like you said, it isn’t my wish to make.”

            Shion stared at his flour-stained genie. It mattered to him, somehow, that his wishes were approved by his genie, even though they didn’t have to be.

            He breathed deeply, tried to think. “What about the homeless?”

            Nezumi sighed. “Forget it, Your Majesty.”

            “If I wished for there to no longer be any homeless people, I understand that you can’t do anything for the people who will lose their homes tomorrow, but now, at this moment, we could change so many lives,” Shion said, almost pleading.

            “You know how I’d grant that wish, Your Majesty?” the genie asked, peering closely at Shion.

            Shion swallowed. There was something cruel in the way the genie was looking at him, something he didn’t understand.

            “The only way to get rid of the homeless population is to kill them,” Nezumi said, easily, and Shion stepped back, horrified.

            “How could you even say that? That’s not what I meant!”

            “Sure, but that’s how it would be done.”

            “I just want them to have homes!”

            “What homes? Where would these homes come from? Would you have me kick people out of their homes so the homeless could live there instead?”

            “No! That’s not – Can’t you build new ones?”

            “Oh? And where would these new homes go? In your backyard? On someone else’s property? There’s no space in populated communities. So the dessert, then, some open space, maybe Antarctica has room. I whip up a bunch of homes, transport the homeless to their new homes. How are they getting food in the middle of the Sahara, Your Majesty? Where’s their water supply coming from? Who’s paying for that? Unless you’re wishing for everyone in poverty to be rich, in which case, that’ll solve nothing. There will always be a lower class. Don’t interfere with class structures, Your Majesty. Like I said, I don’t deal with messy.”

            “So there’s no hope? At all? For anyone? What’s the point, then?” Shion demanded, almost shaking, angry with this man who’d said he could do anything – but nothing that mattered, it seemed.

            “The point, Your Majesty, is for you to find a little happiness for yourself. Be selfish. Genies are useless for helping others. Or if you have to go the selfless route, go small. Stop trying to find world peace. Stop trying to fix everything. It can’t be done, and if it can, I sure as hell am not your man. Why don’t you help out one person? You have family? Wish your mom a nice retirement fund. Wish your dad some good luck with the scratch offs. Wish your uncle first place in a hot dog eating contest.”

            “Nezumi, I’m not giving up so easily,” Shion said. “I’m not going to waste my wish on a hot dog eating contest.”

            The genie just laughed, and his careless amusement bothered Shion more than anything else he’d said. “The thing you don’t seem to have realized yet, Your Majesty, is that everyone wastes their wishes. Once you accept that, it takes a lot of pressure off you, just so you know,” Nezumi said, reaching out and touching Shion’s cheek lightly with his thumb, and Shion wondered if the genie was trying to comfort him.

            The touch was too brief, and the genie was walking away. Shion stayed where he was and listened to the shower spray turn on. Nezumi would be washing the flurry of thin snow from his hair and his pale skin, and Shion closed his eyes and let himself imagine it for a minute or two, his annoyance dissolving.

            There was a lot of pressure with his wishes, but he didn’t want to just give up. He just needed to figure it out.

            And there was the fact, Shion couldn’t help but notice, that Nezumi wasn’t letting him make “wasteful” wishes without stopping him, explaining why they wouldn’t work instead of just granting them. As much as Nezumi pretended to want to knock out these wishes and getting rid of Shion, he was putting a good amount of effort into stopping Shion from wishing anything.

            The thought warmed Shion, and he set to cleaning the mess Nezumi had made in his kitchen – quite a large mess, actually, for a genie who claimed to hate messes so passionately.

*

The next day was Saturday, so Shion woke late next to the haphazard splay of pale limbs, one of which was strewn across his own waist.

            Shion stared at the relaxed arm, then gently removed it, missing the almost imperceptible weight of it immediately, but getting up all the same.

            He was making pancakes when his genie wandered into the kitchen, announcing his presence by peering over Shion’s shoulder, his chin grazing Shion’s shirt.

            “Your Majesty makes more than eggs,” he noted.

            “Yes, I do. Go brush your teeth, your breath reeks.”

            “Does not,” the genie snapped, but he retreated all the same, and only returned when Shion was sliding pancakes onto their plates.

            “Do you like syrup?” Shion asked, watching Nezumi tie his hair into a messy bun on top of his head.

            “Do you have your first wish?” Nezumi asked, instead of answering, taking the syrup anyway.

            “I decided I’m going to stop trying to think of one. It’ll just come to me.”

            “Right, I’ll be here forever, then,” the genie grumbled, stuffing his face with a forkful of pancakes.

            “Am I so bad?” Shion asked, smiling lightly, and Nezumi glanced at him quickly.

            “You talk too much.”

            “I didn’t ask you any questions this morning,” Shion objected. He’d been trying hard not to annoy his genie, whom he’d realized was not a morning person.

            “And you’re too content. Nobody is this happy. It’s disconcerting.”

            “Hmm, just because you’re bitter doesn’t mean everyone is,” Shion said.

            “I’m not bitter,” Nezumi said, bitterly, and Shion was about to prove otherwise, but then it came to him.

            His first wish.

            “I’ve got it!” he shouted, standing up because this was a momentous moment, he needed to be standing, and he grabbed Nezumi’s arm for good measure.

            “What? Let go of me,” the genie snapped, pulling his arm away and glaring.

            “My first wish! I know what I want!”

            The genie just looked at him, not nearly at the level of excitement Shion might have hoped for, but he barreled on despite this.

            “Ready?”

            “More than you know, Your Majesty,” Nezumi said blandly.

            “Can you make everyone in the world happy for one hour?” Shion asked, leaning closer to the genie, whose expression didn’t change from disinterest.

            “That’s your wish?”

            “If you can do it.”

            “Everyone in the world?”

            “That’s what I said.”

            “Even serial killers. And psychopaths,” Nezumi said, but Shion wouldn’t be deterred.

            “Yes. One hour, that’s all I want. I realize that people often make rash decisions when they’re happy that may not bode well for the future, and happiness also means contentment, which could be dangerous because there are things in the world that need to change, like social justice laws and such, but I figure one hour should be a safe time frame,” Shion said, the idea growing on him the more he thought about it.

            He waited for Nezumi to reply, but the genie stayed silent, so Shion thought he should explain himself more.

             “And I think it can really help people,” he continued, enthusiastically. “Maybe it’s just an hour, but every hour, there are people out there in desperate states that I would never be able to understand, people ready to give up. An hour, even just one hour, of something good might remind them that life is worth fighting for. I think this can make a difference, Nezumi. I truly believe that this is a wish that can matter.”

            The genie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t object.

            “So, is it possible?” Shion asked again, grinning wide.

            “It’s possible,” Nezumi finally said, slowly.

            “You don’t have any cynical objections?”

            “At this point, you can wish for whatever you want, Your Majesty. I’m done offering my opinion. I’m just trying to get three wishes from you.”

            He was lying, and Shion knew it. The genie would offer his opinion if he was really against the wish. He was just pretending to be nonchalant, but Shion had a feeling that Nezumi wanted world peace just as much as Shion did, maybe even more.

            Maybe he didn’t think it was possible, but Nezumi wanted it too. He wanted to believe in the good of humanity. He had to.

            Something – Shion wasn’t sure what – but something convinced Shion that Nezumi wasn’t as jaded as he wanted to seem.

            “Okay. Then it’s official. Do I have to write it down, or sign anything, or – ”

            “You just have to wish it, Your Majesty. If this is really what you want. Just say the magic words. Everyone though? Do you know how many people are in the world? Interfering with emotions is difficult, you know, you’re not making it easy on me.”

            “Yes, it has to be everyone,” Shion said. He didn’t want to think small, like Nezumi had said.

            “Even you?”

            Shion blinked. “Yeah, I guess so, even me. And you too,” he added, smiling, but Nezumi frowned.

            “I have no desire to mess with my own emotions. I can’t deny your wish, but I’d prefer you didn’t make me apply it to myself,” he said, slowly, and Shion thought about this, then nodded.

            “Okay, if that’s what you want. Here it goes. Nezumi, I wish for everyone in the world – and that means everyone – except for you, that is, to feel true happiness for one hour, starting now.”

            The genie stared at Shion for another moment, and Shion swore he smiled slightly before he nodded.

            “Your wish has been granted, Your Majesty,” he said, and then he closed his eyes, and then Shion felt inexplicably warm, the same warmth he had felt waking up with Nezumi’s arm strewn lightly over his waist.

            He grinned. “Nezumi, it’s working! I don’t feel drastically different, but I suppose I’m overall pretty happy right now, happier than usual, even, because I figured out my first wish, and I’m proud of it, so my mood wouldn’t be expected to fluctuate dramatically, but I can definitely feel a subtle increase in my – ”

            “Your Majesty,” Nezumi whispered, voice strained, and Shion quieted to glance at him, noticing his face had gone somewhat pale, and he was completely immobile on Shion’s kitchen chair, eyes still closed.

            “Are you okay?” Shion asked, alarmed.

            “Great. But it’s a bit of work to tamper the emotions of everyone in the world and keep them happy for an hour, so if you could shut up, a lack of distraction might be helpful.”

            “Oh. Right, yeah, that makes sense, sorry,” Shion said, sheepishly, but he didn’t feel too bad – thanks to Nezumi, he supposed.

            He wanted to ask how Nezumi was doing it. If he could actually see inside the minds of every person in the world. If he was adding happiness, or taking out conflicting emotions, extracting sadness and anger for an hour so that only happiness remained, like a default setting on the human brain. If these other emotions had to go somewhere – was he absorbing them? Did he feel the weight of the world’s collective misery at this moment? Did he have to focus for every moment of the hour Shion had wished for in order to ensure that these emotions did not creep back to their owners? Was it so difficult to offer happiness to the world, as if it would naturally be rejected? Was it harder to apply it to some people than others, and if so, how many others? Who were the majority?

            Was his genie in pain?

            But the questions were fleeting, lingered and left, vague wanderings of his mind in what was really just contentment. Some questions had no answers. Shion accepted this. He knew it was a side effect of the happiness – ignorance is bliss, and lack of questions breeds ignorance – and it was why he had limited his wish to one hour.

            He could allow himself one hour of ignorance. He smiled and watched Nezumi for another second, then decided to visit his mom, or he’d be tempted to distract the genie who could afford no distractions. He would see how the bakery was doing. It had been a while since he’d helped his mother out, and today would be an excellent day, with all the happy customers.

            “Nezumi, I’m going to my mom’s bakery. I’ll be back soon. Thank you,” Shion said, and Nezumi gave no reply, but Shion assumed that he heard him.

            Shion dressed and left.

*

According to the clock on the microwave, there was one minute left in Shion’s wish when he returned from the bakery, still smiling from seeing his mother and all of her happy customers.

            Happiness, he’d realized, was not always obvious, but it left a mark faint or otherwise on every person it stained. Just to be in a room where everyone was in good spirits and to pass only carefree people on his walk to and from the bakery was noticeable in a way he couldn’t place. There was more laughter, definitely. A lightness in the air.

            Maybe it was temporary, but Shion was happy with his wish – though he couldn’t attest as to if his happiness came from the genie still sitting where Shion had left him on the kitchen chair.

            Shion sat on the chair across from Nezumi and watched his genie, whose eyes were still closed and who had seemingly made no movement but for his hands, which were clenched in fists over his knees.

            His skin was even paler, and Shion watched in fascination as a bead of water slipped from his hairline to cut down his cheek.

            Sweat, Shion realized.

            And then Nezumi’s eyes opened, and the warm feeling was gone, not completely taken, but muted to what Shion assumed was his normal state of contentment. His hour was up.

            Nezumi looked at him blearily.

            “Nezumi, that was incredi—Nezumi!” Shion shouted, standing up as Nezumi slid down, falling sideways off his chair, eyelids fluttering before closing, and Shion only just caught him by the waist, fingers gripping shirt and skin. “Nezumi!”

            The genie did not move in his arms, and Shion bent slowly, braced Nezumi’s body against the floor only so that he could adjust his grip. He slipped one arm around Nezumi’s back, and the genie’s shirt rose up to his navel, but Shion hardly had time to be distracted by the skin revealed.

            He wrapped his other hand under Nezumi’s knees and carried him to his bedroom, where he laid the genie down gingerly. He hovered over the genie, fingers pressing against his pulse points before he remembered that he had no idea if genies even had pulses.

            His question was answered in less than a second. Nezumi’s pulse beat faintly against the pads of Shion’s fingertips, and Shion sighed his relief over Nezumi’s chest.

            The blinds were open in slits, and sunlight streamed in streaks over the genie’s body. Shion touched the places where the light blemished, a strip on the inside of his elbow, a square in the hollow of his clavicle, stripes over his chest. His skin was hot, and burned Shion’s, but Shion didn’t think he’d mind if the prints of his fingertips melted off.        He walked around his bed, settled on the side he’d already begun to think of as Nezumi’s, and waited for his genie to wake up.

*

“Drink this,” Shion said, when Nezumi opened his eyes.

            He held out a cup with one hand and slid the other between Nezumi’s shoulder blades and the mattress, pushing the genie to sit up.

            The silver eyes slid onto Shion’s as Nezumi drank the water without protesting, and only when the cup was empty did Shion remove his hand and let Nezumi fall back onto the bed.

            “Are you okay? Do you remember my name? Do you remember your name? How old are you?”

            “Stop asking me questions so early in the morning, Your Majesty,” Nezumi muttered, sitting up again, but this time on his own, dragging his elbows back against the mattress to prop himself up.

            “It’s not morning. It’s nearly ten at night. You passed out,” Shion said, and Nezumi blinked at him.

            “I didn’t pass out. I was taking a nap.”

            “You fell out of your chair,” Shion said.

            Nezumi sat up fully and ruffled his hair, which Shion had freed from its bun, knowing Nezumi slept with his hair down.

            “That’s irrelevant,” Nezumi said, even though it was very relevant. “How was your wish, Your Majesty?”

            Shion smiled. “It was amazing. Thank you, Nezumi. That was – A lot of work, wasn’t it? I get it now, why you don’t do magic on any whim. It drains you, doesn’t it? Was that dangerous for me to ask, my wish? You could have told me. If you couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have been upset, I don’t want you to overexert or hurt yourself – ”

            “Can you shut up?” Nezumi asked, mildly. He rubbed a hand over his face, then set Shion with a steady glare. “I obviously could do it, as I did, didn’t I? So stop fretting so much, I’m not some delicate flower.”

            “Right. You’re an all-powerful genie,” Shion said, biting the inside of his cheek, but his amusement was short-lived, as a second later the genie’s hand was around the collar of his t-shirt, jerking Shion forward, Nezumi’s grip hot and damp from sleep.

            “I could kill you with a snap of my fingers, and I’d warn you, Your Majesty, not to tempt me,” Nezumi whispered, close to Shion’s lips, and though his silver eyes flashed, Shion was distracted by the hot breath on his skin.

            It was as hot and nearly as tangible as the brush of Nezumi’s fingers on the skin of his neck. If he only leaned closer the smallest bit, they would be kissing.

            “Do you understand me?” Nezumi asked, and Shion nodded, careful not to lean either farther or closer to the genie, in a combination of both fear of and desire for the sensation of his lips.

            “Yes, Nezumi, I understand you,” Shion whispered, and he forced himself to look up from Nezumi’s lips to his eyes, which flickered between Shion’s before the genie leaned back and let go of his collar, giving Shion a strange look he didn’t understand.

            “Good. Now have you got a second wish?”

            “Already? I think we’ve earned ourselves a break, don’t you?” Shion asked, startled by the thought. He’d just felt the relief of the pressure of his first wish lifting, and now he was supposed to think of a second?

            “I don’t need a break,” Nezumi said, a little harshly, and Shion hastily backtracked.

            “I know you don’t, I’m just saying I don’t know yet, and I want it to be as good as my first. You really did something incredible today, Nezumi.”

            Nezumi peered at Shion warily. “It was just an hour, Your Majesty.”

            Shion shrugged. “Some people don’t usually see an hour of happiness in a whole week, maybe a whole month. I’m not implying any lives were permanently changed, I’m just saying you did something incredible. Something that mattered.”

            “Just as naïve, I see,” Nezumi replied, turning away from Shion to get off the bed, but Shion reached out, grabbed his shoulder, held him back.

            When Nezumi turned to look at him, Shion spoke. “Don’t patronize me. Admit I’m right. You know as well as I do that a light in the dark, no matter how dim, no matter how fleeting, is worth something great.”

            “Very poetic, Your Majesty.”

            “Admit it, Nezumi. I’m right. You gave the world magic for an hour.”

            “I didn’t do anything. You wished it, I just do what I’m told,” Nezumi mumbled, shaking his shoulder free from Shion’s hold and standing up.

            Shion watched him sadly. “You don’t have to be ashamed of helping people, you know. It’s not such a bad thing, to make someone happy.”

            Nezumi turned, expression blank. “That light in the dark shit you were talking about? Sounds a lot to me like hope. And hope is a dangerous thing, Your Majesty. Don’t get so ahead of yourself about how easy it is to help people. It’s not. It’s much easier to destroy them than you would think.”

            Shion didn’t reply, and Nezumi didn’t offer him much time to, as he quickly left the room, leaving Shion alone to wonder what had happened to his genie to make him think happiness was a dangerous thing, something to be feared, something to avoid.

*


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Wish**

Two weeks passed after Shion’s first wish, and he and his genie had fallen into a routine.

            The routine consisted of mornings with pale limbs strewn over Shion’s body. Shion woke first, inevitably, to smile sleepily at these limbs, and the genie to whom they belonged. He would remove any limbs from his body after a minute or so, legs that tangled with his own, arms that fell over his chest and waist, sometimes even fingers that gripped his t-shirt loosely, confusing them for the blanket in the midst of a nightmare, Shion assumed.

            He would slide from bed, careful not to disturb his genie, wash his face and brush his teeth, then make breakfast for two. The genie preferred toast with jam, he had learned, which was easy enough.

            The genie would join him for breakfast, groggy and cranky, so not many words would be exchanged, and Shion didn’t mind. The only words, invariably, that were spoken each morning were Nezumi’s request of Shion’s second wish, and Shion replying that he didn’t have one yet.

            Afterward, Shion would change for work, Nezumi often appearing in his doorway to complain about being left home alone, and then Shion would leave for work and come home hours later to his genie in the midst of finding a new hobby.

            The genie’s attempts, thus far, included counting cards, painting nature, bird watching, making pizza from scratch, sewing, juggling, and knife throwing, among other things.

            Shion always looked forward to coming home to his genie, but his pleasure began to mix with fear. He worried for the antics his genie got up to with all of the spare time he now had on his hands. Nezumi had informed Shion that he usually just granted wishes and moved on, and never had time for himself. As much as Shion was happy to be able to give Nezumi the chance to discover his own passions, he worried the genie would hurt himself unsupervised.

            A month after rubbing the lamp, Shion came home after a particularly long day at work to a quiet house, which was most worrying of all. He closed the front door behind him and peered warily into the kitchen.

            “Nezumi?”

            It had been raining outside, and Shion shivered under the thin coat of cool water that lingered on his skin. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and waited for Nezumi’s reply, but it didn’t come.

            “Nezumi, are you here?” Shion called again. He walked past the bathroom and peered into the open doorway, but it was empty, so he came next to their bedroom, and sighed his relief on spotting his genie unharmed on the bed.

            The genie was reading.

            “What are you reading?” Shion asked, walking over and sitting on the bed by Nezumi’s feet.

            He ducked his head to see the cover of the book and read Shakespeare’s name on the spine.

            “A classic. Where did you get it? I don’t think I own any of Shakespeare’s plays. Is this from the library? How did you get that without a card? Unless you got a card, but you have to have an address. Did you give my address? Of course, I suppose, it’s your address as well, but I think you need proof that you live here, and – ”

            “Your Majesty, there’s a reason I didn’t reply when you called,” Nezumi said tiredly, not looking away from his book.

            “What reason is that?” Shion asked.

            The silver eyes flickered up at him. “I’m reading. Go away.”

            “Why did you choose Shakespeare? Have you read his plays before?”

            “Are you physically incapable of shutting up, or do you just refrain from ever keeping your mouth shut to annoy me?” Nezumi asked, shutting his book and sliding off the bed.

            Shion followed him into the kitchen. “I think a combination of both, probably. It’s not my fault that you’re easily annoyed. Tell me about the book. I’ve only ever read _Romeo and Juliet_ in high school. I liked it, but never thought to read any of his plays on my own. There’s something so complex about the language, it takes a lot of focus to comprehend it.”

            “It definitely doesn’t help to have an exuberant and disobedient puppy yapping in one’s ear while reading the Bard’s works, that’s true,” Nezumi agreed, looking at Shion pointedly as he poured himself a mug of tea.

            Shion ignored the slight easily – another part of their routine. “So is this your new hobby? Reading plays?”

            “How should I know? I’ve hardly been allowed to read it what with you coming home and talking incessantly,” Nezumi complained.

            Shion stole Nezumi’s mug of tea and smiled. “Thanks.”

            “That was mine.”

            “Pour another, you’re closer to the mugs.”

            “Unbelievable,” Nezumi muttered, but instead of pouring himself another mug, he leaned closer to Shion, eyes narrowing.

            “What?”

            “You look tired. And you’re wet,” Nezumi said, pressing his finger between Shion’s eyebrows.

            Shion blinked at him, having forgotten about the long day at work since coming home to the distraction of his genie. “Oh, yeah. Work was difficult. The permits for this project I’m heading are not going through.”

            “The greenhouse?” Nezumi asked, turning to pour himself a new mug of tea.

            “Yeah. I’ll figure it out though. It’s just going to stretch the timeline I’d envisioned, so funding might be difficult to acquire for the delay,” Shion mused, cupping his hands around his mug to warm himself.

            “Of course you’ll figure it out,” his genie replied, easily, turning and reaching out, weaving his fingers quickly through Shion’s hair, as had become another part of their routine.

            He was very touchy, this genie, Shion had noticed, but he didn’t mind at all.

            “You should dry yourself up, you’ll get sick. Is it raining hard?”

            “Not really, but I think it might storm tonight. The clouds looked ominous. But that should be good for you. It’s always better to read during a storm.”

            “That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Nezumi replied, skeptical as usual, and Shion just smiled.

            “You’ll see,” he said.

            He finished his mug of tea, then left the kitchen to shower, the touch of his genie lingering even as the rain washed off his skin.

*

Their routine was broken the next day, in the morning when Nezumi asked his usual question.

             “Do you know your second wish, Your Majesty?” Nezumi asked, as he always did, though this time Shion didn’t simply shake his head.

            The genie had been particularly active the previous night, his kicking limbs stronger, his clutch on the blanket tighter, the words he murmured in his sleep louder, though none were distinguishable from a garble of syllables.

            Shion expected it had to do with the play he was reading. _Macbeth_ , he knew, was particularly gruesome. Perhaps he was having nightmares about it.

             “Nezumi, can I ask you something?”

             “If I said no, it would hardly stop you,” Nezumi said, but he watched Shion curiously.

             “What would you wish for, if you were me?” he asked.

            The genie traced the rim of his mug with his forefinger absently for a few seconds before answering. “I’m not you, so the question is moot.”

             “No, it’s not. I can’t think of anything. I need your help.”

             “I thought you were going to let it just come to you,” Nezumi said, lifting his finger from his mug and instead using his palm to prop up his chin as he surveyed Shion in that heavy way of his.

            Shion smiled sheepishly. “I could still use your help. Will you tell me?”

            Nezumi waved his hand. “It’s useless.”

             “Try me!” Shion demanded, more curious now than ever.

             “Don’t you have to go to work?” Nezumi asked mildly.

            Shion didn’t reply. He could use Nezumi’s staring-in-silence tactic as well, if he wanted.

            The genie watched him tiredly, and Shion was beginning to think that he was not employing Nezumi’s staring-in-silence tactic as well as he’d hoped, but then the genie sighed.

             “Fine, you want to know, Your Majesty? You’re too curious for your own good. If I had a wish, I’d wish for my freedom,” he said, waving his hand as if brushing off his own words and standing up. He took Shion’s plate as well as his own and placed them in the sink.

            Shion turned in his seat and watched Nezumi run the faucet over their dishes, but the genie didn’t reach for the sponge, simply looked at the stream of water.

             “Your freedom,” Shion mused, thinking it over, noting again the silver cuffs that never left Nezumi’s wrists, thinking about the lamp that still sat beside his desk lamp on his nightstand.

            Nezumi reached out, cupped his hand under the faucet, and they both watched the water pool in his palm before dripping out the sides of his hand. “Yeah,” he murmured, softly.

             “Is it possible? For you to get your freedom? Is there a contract, or…” Shion trailed off. He didn’t even know if Nezumi had ever lived a life where he was free. He wanted to ask, but he knew how Nezumi felt with questions in the morning. Just asking the few he had was pushing his luck, and he didn’t want Nezumi to stop responding now that he had finally opened up.

            Nezumi dropped his hand from the stream of water, picked up the sponge, and began washing their dishes. “The only way I can be free is for my master to wish it,” Nezumi replied, to the dishes.

            Shion thought about this. So it was possible. “Can’t you just – I mean, you have magic, so can’t you just use it to free yourself? I guess I don’t understand.”

            Nezumi placed the dishes in the drying rack and dried his hands before finally looking at Shion, his expression as emotionless as if they’d been discussing the weather.

             “I am bound to grant three wishes for each of my masters. As soon as I grant the third wish, I’m sucked back into my lovely lamp. No time to magic myself free, and I can’t really do it in the cramped space of the lamp. It’s impossible to concentrate in there.”

             “What about right now? Between wishes? Couldn’t you free yourself?” Shion asked.

            Nezumi ran a hand through his bangs, gave Shion a small smile. “Magic drains energy. You’ve seen it. Granting my own freedom would drain more energy than – Well, let’s just say that if I freed myself, I wouldn’t be able to grant any more wishes, so I wouldn’t be following my contract. That’s not good.”

             “But what would happen?”

             “Your Majesty, forgive me, I would love to satisfy your insatiable curiosity, but as I’ve never freed myself, I should hardly know the exact semantics of what would occur. I know enough that I would not be able to grant another wish, no matter how small,” Nezumi said, leaning against the counter and drying his hands on a dish towel.

             “Why don’t you just break your contract?” Shion demanded.

             “Can’t do that,” Nezumi replied, and Shion grit his teeth in frustration.

             “Maybe you should try!”

             “I believe you’ve mentioned before that there are aspects of the genie world that you could not understand. Let me remind you of the accuracy of that statement,” Nezumi said, somewhat dryly.

             “So the only way for you to be free, whatever that means, is if I wish it?”

            Nezumi dropped the towel on the counter and crossed his arms. “It would have to be your third wish, so that I complete my contract of three wishes as I grant it. But yes, technically, although I would hardly ask you to do such a thing, Your Majesty, please don’t let yourself be under the impression that I was suggesting it.”

            The decision was easy. Made, Shion thought, as soon as he’d heard Nezumi’s wish in the first place.

             “Of course I’ll free you, Nezumi,” he said, enthusiastically, leaning forward in his chair. “Two wishes is already too much for me, I’d be honored to use my third on you.”

            The genie did not appear gratified or happy at the news. His expression, in fact, did not change at all.

             “I think you’re late for work, Your Majesty,” he finally said, quietly, and Shion wished the genie was wrong, but as it was, a glance at the clock on his microwave confirmed that he had to rush out the door without hardly another word to his genie.

            In his car on the way to work, Shion thought about Nezumi’s strange reaction – or more accurately, his lack of reaction at all. He couldn’t help but remember what Nezumi had said a few weeks before, right after Shion’s first wish, about the danger of hope, and he thought he understood why his genie may have acted so strangely.

            It didn’t matter. Maybe Nezumi would be afraid to hope, but Shion would keep his word. It was his resolve.

*

The interruption of their routine continued when Shion came home to find Nezumi in the midst of reading again – the first time an activity was repeated two days in a row.

            “Reading again?” he asked, through his doorway. He’d decided he wouldn’t bring up their conversation from that morning again, or at least not until it came time for him to make his third wish. He had a feeling Nezumi was not a fan of the subject.

            “Talking again?” Nezumi replied without looking up, and Shion didn’t bother hiding his grin, knowing the genie wouldn’t notice it as it was doubtful he’d look up from his book.

            It was Friday, and Shion was exhausted from work, but considered going into the office the next day anyway. There was simply too much to be done, and though he had begun looking forward to the weekends as a means to spend the entire day with his genie, he wasn’t sure he could afford this time off.

            He announced this to his genie later that night, as they ate the pizza Shion had ordered – too tired to cook, and of course, Nezumi was too distracted by his play to bother.

            Shion watched Nezumi nibble on the edge of his crust and turn the pages of the book he’d brought to the table for a few minutes before speaking.

            “I’ll be going in to work tomorrow, just so you know.”

            The genie did not reply for a moment, and the next page was turned and dog-eared before he glanced up.

            “Why?” he asked, tucking his bangs behind his ear.

            “I have a lot to get done,” Shion replied, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

            Nezumi watched him for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Stay home. It’s the weekend.”

            “I can’t stay home. Besides, now you can read without me bothering you for another day.”

            “You’re overworked,” Nezumi said, pointing at Shion accusatorily. “You need rest.”

            “I’m completely fine, Nezumi.”

            “As your genie, I forbid it.”

            Shion crossed his arms. “You can’t do that.”

            “Yes, I can. It’s my job to grant your wishes, and if you don’t recall, you haven’t made any in quite a while. You need a weekend to get your mind off work and think about what you want to wish for,” Nezumi said, looking quite proud of himself.

            Shion wondered if Nezumi was more eager for him to make his second wish now that there was the chance of freedom with Shion’s third, but he doubted it. He was pretty sure Nezumi didn’t believe that he’d free him anyway. “I do recall, actually, because you ask me every morning. And as I know you are aware, I can’t just force myself to think of one. It has to come to me.”

            “It won’t come to you if all you’re doing is thinking about trees.”

            Shion did not bother to correct Nezumi again and inform him that his work involved more than just trees, as this particular part of their routine had become stale.

            “I’d probably think about work even more if I wasn’t at the office, just knowing that I should be there,” Shion said.

            Nezumi squinted at him, then his expression cleared, and he stood up, dropping the half of his crust that remained on his plate and walking to the cupboards.

            Shion stole the crust from Nezumi’s plate and chewed on it while he watched Nezumi rummage around.

            “What are you doing?” he asked, after a moment.

            “Patience, Your Majesty,” said the genie who had absolutely no patience at all.

            Shion finished the crust, wiped his hands on his sweats, and waited.

            “Aha. I was worried you wouldn’t have any,” Nezumi said, emerging from a cupboard with a bottle of wine.

            “That’s for special occasions,” Shion said, shaking his head.

            “Tonight is a special occasion.”

            “How so?”

            “It’s my birthday,” Nezumi said, digging around more drawers until he pulled out a wine opener.

            “That’s not true. Is that true? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I would have gotten you something! Is it really your birthday? Don’t lie to me, Nezumi, because now I feel guilty, and – ”

            “Shutting up will suffice as a wonderful present, thank you. Why don’t you have wine glasses?”

            “Nezumi, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m not, well, I’m not too good at holding my liquor, not to say I’m a light weight, but I’m more of a…a medium weight, you could say. And I have to go in to work tomorrow, so I’d rather not – ”

            “Mugs it is!” Nezumi announced, and Shion watched helplessly as he poured them two mugs of wine, which he brought to the table.

            He placed Shion’s on the table and held his out, clearly waiting for Shion to clink mugs with him.

            “To the trees!” Nezumi said, smirking, and Shion had no choice but to raise his own glass, clink it against his genie’s, and down the contents.

*

An hour later found both genie and master slumped sloppily on the floor, Shion perhaps a bit more sloppily than Nezumi, but he couldn’t really be sure of it as the kitchen was spinning.

            “More water,” Shion slurred, knowing water helped ward hangovers, and he reached for the wine bottle.

            “That’s not water,” the genie pointed out, but Shion didn’t listen to him, and continued pouring. He wasn’t to be trusted, this genie. This pretty genie. Very pretty genie.        

            “You’re a very genie pretty.”

            The genie stared at him carefully. “You weren’t kidding about not being able to hold your liquor. How many mugs did you have anyway? Wait – Is that bottle empty? You’re cut off, Your Majesty, I can’t have you dying before you make three wishes. That can cause some complications for me.”

            It was a lot of words, and Shion had a hard time holding on to most of them. He reached out and touched the genie’s lips, thinking it might be easier to understand if he could hold the words in his hands.

            “What – Stop that – ”

            “Wishes… I’m supposed to make wishes,” Shion remembered, feeling himself sliding down the counter he leaned against, so he dropped his hand from Nezumi’s lips to Nezumi’s shirt and clutched it instead, pulling himself up.

            “Ow, will you keep your hands to yourself?” the genie muttered.

            “I have a lot of wishes, you know,” Shion said, liking that instead of pushing him off, Nezumi unlatched Shion’s fingers from his shirt only to place his hands on both of Shion’s shoulders and hold him steady. His hands were big and warm on through Shion’s shirt.

            “Stop talking about wishes. If you make one while you’re drunk, I still have to do it. This is dangerous territory, Your Majesty.”

            “Wanna know what I wish for?” Shion slurred, and to his delight, Nezumi’s palm was back against his lips.

            “No, I do not. Clearly, you’re not listening to me. That’s not a surprise, you never listen to me.”

            Shion giggled underneath Nezumi’s palm. He liked when Nezumi touched him, especially his lips, but he wanted something else against his lips right now.

            So he licked Nezumi, who recoiled again.

            “That’s a gross habit, stop that!” Nezumi snapped, rubbing his hand on Shion’s shirt.

            Shion reached out and caught it before Nezumi could move away.

            “I wish – ”

            “Stop!” Nezumi shouted, and then Shion was on his back, and Nezumi’s face was above his.

            “Did you tackle me, or did I fall?” Shion asked, unsure. Either way, he was glad for it. He noted vaguely that Nezumi was on all fours over his body. Shion reached out and ran his hand through Nezumi’s hair, like he’d always wanted. As he’d suspected, it was silk over his fingers.

            “I had to stop you from wishing. That big mouth of yours is going to get you into some trouble. I’m warning you, it’s time to shut it and call it a night.”

            “I have to make my second wish first,” Shion said, touching Nezumi’s face now instead.

            “You’re like a child, did you know that? Look, don’t touch,” Nezumi said exasperatedly, taking Shion’s hand and holding it away from his face.

            “I like to look at you,” Shion agreed happily. He grinned up at his genie. He liked his genie a lot. His genie was beautiful. His genie was smart. His genie was warm when they slept beside each other. His genie had an amazing voice, and had begun reading to Shion at night, as if answering his silent wish.

            Shion had many silent wishes. He wanted his genie to make them all come true.

            “Stop smiling like that, it’s creepy.”

            “Ready for my wish, pretty genie?”

            “Your Majesty, I have to warn you, if I punch you in the face to shut you up, it will be for your own good.”

            “I wish – ”

            “Don’t – ”

            Shion swatted Nezumi’s hands away, as the genie attempted to silence him again, and then they were wrestling on the ground, Nezumi trying to cover Shion’s lips, and Shion trying in vein to get out his wish, to tell his genie what he wanted so much, so badly it hurt, an aching in his chest.

            “I wish – ”

            “Your Majesty!”

            “—for a kiss – ”

            “Shion! Ow – You’re pulling my hair – Stop talking!”

            “—from the pretty genie. Also known as you. Also known as Nezumi. Also known as – Psst, what’s your last name? Mr… Mr… Mr. Silver-Eyes,” Shion managed, breathing hard, as in their fight, Nezumi had punched him in the stomach, but Shion didn’t care.

            He’d made his wish.

            They both froze, and by this point their positions had become reversed. Shion was sitting on top of Nezumi, butt over Nezumi’s knees and hands pinning Nezumi by the wrists to the linoleum floor. The cool silver of Nezumi’s cuffs chilled Shion’s palms in a way that contrasted the heat of his skin delightfully.

            The genie’s hair was scattered over his eyes, so Shion let go of Nezumi’s wrists now that he figured he was safe from any more attacks and brushed his fingers over Nezumi’s bangs, revealing his eyes.

            Nezumi stared up at him, and Shion grinned reflexively.

            “Shit, Shion,” the genie said, the second time he said Shion’s name, and Shion liked it, grinned wider.

            “I wish for you to kiss me,” Shion said again, because he liked saying it, because he wanted it double the amount of anything else, maybe even triple, actually, on second thought, so Shion opened his mouth to say it a third time. “I wish for a kiss from – ”

            “I heard you,” Nezumi sighed, sitting up under Shion, hands on Shion’s hips, and Shion let the genie slide him back so that he was no longer sitting on Nezumi’s knees, but his shins.

            “I wanted you to hear me again. And another again. A third again. Or would that be a second again, as the first again was the second time I – ”

            “You’re a complete idiot, Your Majesty. I thought you wanted to change the world, make wishes that mattered. You just wasted one completely.”

            Shion blinked, confused. “True love can change the world. And nothing matters more than true love’s kiss.”

            Nezumi exhaled in a way that almost seemed like a laugh. “You really are crazy, aren’t you? I knew it, I knew you were insane from the start.”

            “Are you going to kiss me?” Shion asked, because he was pretty sure he hadn’t been kissed yet, and that seemed like some kind of serious break in those rules his genie was always going on about.

            “I have to, because you’re an idiot,” Nezumi said, sighing again.

            “With tongue,” Shion said quickly, because he’d forgotten to say it before. Maybe he could trick his genie into thinking it was part of the original wish.

            “I really think it’s in your best interest to stop talking,” Nezumi said mildly, but he was smiling slightly, or at least Shion thought he was, but he also appeared to be spinning, and that seemed like a very dubious thing to be doing at this moment while sitting down.

            Shion felt the room swaying around him, and then Nezumi caught his shoulders, held him back up.

            “Woah there, Your Majesty. You gonna pass out? Don’t throw up on me, got it?”

            Shion nodded. His head was spinning, but that was just because the genie’s hand was cupping his cheek now, tilting his head towards him, leaning even closer.

            “Okay, Your Majesty. Your wish has been granted,” Nezumi whispered, and then his lips were on Shion’s, and everything was spinning now, not just Shion’s head, but the whole world – but no, that was always spinning, maybe Shion had it wrong, maybe the world had gone perfectly, absolutely, and completely still.

            The genie’s lips were warm and wet, and then they parted, and Shion felt something even warmer and wetter – his tongue! – and he was almost certain the genie’s hand was on his side, steadying him by gripping his shirt, but he didn’t really know, it was hard to concentrate with the genie’s breath filling every corner of his mouth and trickling down his throat, slipping into his lungs along with his own inhales. He felt warm all over, every inch, as if he’d been dunked in liquid fire, lava, maybe, crashing back and forth against him in waves – he couldn’t think, he wasn’t sure, he only knew that he loved it, he loved it, he loved it.

            His head was heavy when Nezumi pulled away, and Shion reached out, felt the genie’s t-shirt, clutched it tight.

            “How was that, Your Majesty?” Nezumi asked quietly, just as the world started spinning again, faster than before – too fast, much too fast.

            “It was – ” Shion started weakly, but no other words could come out because something else was coming up his throat, bursting through lips that had been pressed to Nezumi’s only seconds before.

            And then Shion was vomiting on his genie.

*

Shion woke wanting to die.

            That would be his next wish, he decided. He curled himself into a ball and opened his eyes, expecting to find his genie beside him so that he could make his last request.

            The bed was empty.

            Shion tried to sit up, but his stomach clenched, and he lay back down quickly, clamping a hand over his lips and breathing deeply.

            He definitely would not be going in to work today. He hoped his genie was happy.

            “Nezumi,” Shion called, softly, not daring to speak louder than a whisper. He groaned and curled his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his arms tight around his waist.

            His genie appeared in the doorway.

            “Ah, thought I heard your cheerful beckon,” Nezumi commented, leaning against the doorframe and surveying Shion amusedly.

            “I’m dying,” Shion confided weakly.

            “Pity. I was just growing fond of you.”

            “Nezumi, help me,” Shion pleaded, and his genie merely looked at him for a second more, then walked away.

            Shion groaned again, mouth against his pillow to stifle the pathetic sound, and shut his eyes tight. Maybe he could pass out again, ride through the hangover in unconsciousness. He had never been so hungover in his entire life. He would never drink again, he decided resolutely – or as resolutely as he could, with his head throbbing so distractingly.

            “Hey, Your Majesty, stop moaning.”

            Shion opened his eyes at the cool voice and found his genie kneeling beside the bed, offering him two pills.

            “Take these,” he said gently, and Shion inched his hand carefully from his waist, not wanting to make any sudden movements.

            “Are they magic?” he asked, picking them from Nezumi’s palm and placing them on his tongue.

            “No, they’re Advil. Drink them with this seltzer, it’ll settle your stomach.”

            “I can’t drink anything ever again.”    

            “It’s not alcoholic.”

            “Anything, Nezumi,” Shion insisted, but Nezumi’s cool fingers were on Shion’s chin, tilting his face up so he could drink without choking, and he obeyed the soothing voice.

            “Just a few sips, you’ll be fine, Your Majesty. This is nothing you don’t deserve.”

            “Deserve?” Shion asked, after Nezumi took the cup away, bewildered at the thought. He wouldn’t wish this feeling on his worst enemy.

            “Shh, don’t talk,” Nezumi said, and he produced a washcloth he must have brought with him and pressed it against Shion’s forehead.

            It was wet and cool, and Shion moaned his pleasure, pressing his forehead further against it.

            “Unbelievable,” Nezumi murmured.

            “What?” Shion breathed.

            “The shit I do for you after what you did to me. This is going beyond my genie duties, I’ll have you know. You are inexcusably taking advantage.”

            Shion had no idea what his genie was talking about, but this may have been due to the fact that his head felt as though it was filled with sludge.

            “What did I do to you?” he asked, peering up at Nezumi, who stared back.

            “You don’t remember,” he said blandly.

            “Remember what?” Shion asked weakly.

            “Of course. Typical,” Nezumi was saying, shaking his head.

            “Are you mad at me? What did I do?” Shion asked, forcing himself to sit up, and Nezumi pulled the washcloth from his forehead.

            His stomach didn’t heave, which was surprising. Perhaps the seltzer, Shion mused, grateful.

            “You don’t remember vomiting two slices of pizza and three quarters of a bottle of wine on me, Your Majesty?” Nezumi asked dryly, and Shion’s stomach clenched in an entirely different way than when he’d woken up.

            “Nezumi, are you being dramatic?” Shion asked weakly, sincerely hoping that the genie was indulging in this particular habit of his, but Nezumi narrowed his eyes.

            “I most certainly am not. I am understating the entire ordeal, actually. It’s worse than it sounds, because you started giggling afterwards.”

            “Oh no, Nezumi, I am so sincerely sorry – ”

            Nezumi held up a hand, and Shion quieted, holding his own palm over his lips, absolutely ashamed.

            He remembered his previous wish to die, and decided that yes, that was the perfect wish.

            “Somehow, hearing you apologize makes it worse. Spare me the tearshed, I’ve had to clean up enough of your messes.”

            Shion groaned and pitched forward, pressing his forehead to Nezumi’s shoulder to hide his face. “Please forget that ever happened.”

            “Unlike you, it’s not something I can easily erase from my memory, unfortunately.”

            “Oh,” Shion moaned, his skin burning. He had vomited on his beautiful genie. He didn’t even want to imagine it. He couldn’t bear to think of it.

            “Shh, okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely your fault, Your Majesty, don’t get upset now,” Nezumi was saying, voice cool in Shion’s ear, and Shion felt his genie’s long fingers weaving into his hair reassuringly.

            Shion breathed slowly, not wanting to move his head from Nezumi’s shoulder, not wanting his genie’s hand to ever leave his hair, but then it was stilling, and Shion could feel Nezumi’s frame tensing.

            “Your Majesty, what else do you not remember?”

            The hand fell from Shion’s hair, then, and Shion forced himself to lean back so that he could see his genie’s expression.

            It was a mixed cocktail of emotions Shion couldn’t even begin to discern, though his heart quickened in some instinctual reaction.

            “I don’t know,” Shion replied slowly. “It would be impossible for me to remember what I don’t remember, for obvious reasons.”

            Nezumi didn’t say anything, then stood up abruptly. “When you feel ready, you should shower. I’ll make breakfast,” he replied.

            Shion looked up at him, wanting to ask why he was acting oddly, but his stomach distracted him, reeling at the mention of food.

            He wrapped his arms around his waist warily. “I can’t eat anything now,” he said, somewhat panicked.

            “Food will help. Your stomach needs something in it other than the remnants of wine. Go clean yourself up, Your Majesty, you’ll be fine,” Nezumi said, coolly.

            Shion nodded numbly, then waited for his genie to leave the room before falling back onto his bed and curling into a ball again, arms tight around his waist.

*

By the time Shion finally made it to the kitchen, freshly showered and feeling better enough that death no longer posed such a strong temptation, the clock on the microwave informed him that it was after noon.

            Nezumi had made eggs and pancakes, and there was a plate full of both in front of Shion’s chair, though the genie himself was nibbling only on a piece of toast. He sat with his hand cupping his neck, face ducked over his book until Shion sat down across from him.

            “How are you doing, Your Majesty?” he asked, looking up, and Shion poked his eggs tentatively.

            “Hangover-wise, I feel better, but I am still completely mortified. I really am sorry, Nezumi, though I know you don’t want to hear it, so I apologize for my apology as well,” Shion said, leaning forward.

            His genie yawned before replying, and Shion wondered how much sleep he had gotten. “Don’t sound so sincere, it freaks me out. Now eat, it will make you feel better.”

            Shion did as he was told. He finished his entire plate in silence and afterward sat watching Nezumi expectedly, not realizing what he was doing until Nezumi looked up from his book again.

            “What is it now, Your Majesty?” he asked, and Shion blinked before recalling what was wrong.

            “It’s just – Aren’t you going to ask? You always do, so I was just waiting…”

            “Ask what?” Nezumi closed his book and watched Shion warily, leaning back slightly.

            “What my second wish is? Not that I’ve thought of one, but it’s just routine, a reflex if anything, at this point – ”

            “Your second wish,” Nezumi interrupted tonelessly.

            Shion tried to understand Nezumi’s strange behavior, but could conjure no rationale. “Yes. My second wish, which you’ve requested from me every morning for nearly a month,” Shion reminded, not sure why the reminder was needed.

            Nezumi stared at him a few seconds more, and then he was laughing, head bent and shoulders heaving, a hand gripping the table, and Shion stared at his fingers for a moment before looking back up at the man who was in rather startling hysterics.

            “Nezumi – Are you okay?”

            Nezumi kept laughing, to the point where Shion was beginning to get seriously worried and considered taking some sort of action to interfere, and only then did the genie begin to get ahold of himself, his hand slipping from the table and sweeping over his silver eyes, which shone.

            “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but you make it hard not to find amusement at your expense.”

            Shion narrowed his eyes in confusion. “My expense? What are you talking about?”

            “I’m talking,” Nezumi said, sobering entirely and rather serious now, Shion noted amidst his bewilderment, “about your second wish, and the fact that you put so much time into thinking of the perfect wish, only to waste it on something you can’t even remember.”

            There was something bitter in his tone, the slightest undercurrent, but Shion hardly had time to acknowledge it, as Nezumi’s words were sinking in.

            Instinctively, Shion covered his mouth with his hands as if he might prevent the wish from leaving his lips a day too late. He shook his head at Nezumi, who stared impassively back.

            Shion released his lips, his hands falling heavily to his lap. “I didn’t wish for something last night,” he whispered, as if denial could make it true.

            “I tried to stop you,” Nezumi replied. “But you licked me, as is your habit, apparently. You should stop telling me to find a hobby and find yourself some new ones.”

            “Nezumi! What – What did I wish for?” Shion demanded, feeling shaky. He couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to use this wish on something great, something momentous. He could have cured cancer, or found a solution to worldwide hunger, or contributed to any of the many movements furthering equality for a multitude of minority groups, but instead he’d hoarded his second wish, not knowing which cause was greatest, not knowing what issue was most important, waiting for some sign to illuminate the right thing to do – only to waste it while drunk.

            Shion preferred the hangover. He felt sick, and covered his face with his hands.

            “What did you wish for, indeed,” the genie was saying, and Shion peeked through his fingers, dropped his hands again to look at him fully.

            “What?” Shion asked again, more quietly this time, less sure that he wanted to know.

            He tried to think it through. He would have been drunk, without inhibitions, more inclined to take risks, then. He doubted he would have wished for something random – No, it would have been important to him, or at least, important to his unleashed consciousness, a desire that perhaps ran too deeply to be registered by his conscious mind, or if it was, he repressed it still…

            Shion stared at Nezumi, who watched him with his usual heavy gaze, careful and calculating.

            “Are you sure you would like me to tell you, Your Majesty?”

            Trying to read Nezumi’s expression was pointless, but Shion did so anyway, desperately.

            Ignorance was bliss, he knew, but ignorance was dangerous, and Shion found himself taking a deep breath, steeling himself, nodding.

            “Yes,” he decided, and Nezumi nodded back, slowly, before standing up from his chair.

            Shion watched warily as the genie walked towards him, steps deliberate, stopping too late, standing too close, leaning even closer. Shion’s pulse rocketed, electric currents over his skin.

            “You wished,” Nezumi whispered, breath pressing hard against Shion’s lips, and Shion had only to flinch the slightest bit to find his skin against his genie’s, “for me,” the genie continued before Shion could flinch, and his breath skated over Shion’s skin, his lips trailing behind it, and Shion felt his genie’s flesh skimming so faintly against his cheek in a quick, burning path to his ear, where Nezumi dropped the last of his syllables – “to kiss you.”

            Shion swallowed, all but melted in his chair, and Nezumi’s lips hovered by the drum of his ear for a moment before the genie leaned back, silver eyes heavy on Shion’s for the longest second until, with of quirk of his lips, the genie was smirking, all amusement and lightness, and Shion felt himself exhale roughly the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

            “Shame you can’t remember. Quite a passionate kiss, it was, until the vomiting, of course. It killed the moment, one might say,” Nezumi said, around his smirk, while Shion concentrated on breathing at a lower volume than he was presently – which was rather loudly and embarrassingly.

            “Nezumi,” Shion murmured, not knowing what he wanted to say, only that he was desperate to say it, but the clearly amused genie hardly gave him a chance.

            “Don’t fret, Your Majesty, you gave a performance of a lifetime, especially given your intoxicated state. Shame that there’s still no cure for cancer, but at least I have something to think about on the lonely nights, and surely that’s something to be proud of,” Nezumi said easily, grin spreading, and Shion felt even hotter, skin burning in an uncomfortable way, in a way he couldn’t stand.

            “Stop,” Shion breathed, brushing his hand over his eyes, which burned along with his skin, hot and prickling.

            The genie was mocking him, and it wasn’t as though Shion didn’t deserve it – it was Nezumi, after all, who had predicted that Shion would end up making wishes as shallow as everyone else’s – but Shion was only more ashamed at the fact that Nezumi had predicted it.

            There was also the aspect of shame in the fact that Shion had kissed Nezumi, intoxicated or not, and the genie still thought of him as a joke, but Shion didn’t even want to think of that, pushed it out of his mind before the deep ache could settle in his chest, willed himself to look at what surely was the bigger problem – that he had wasted a wish for selfish reasons, that he was a joke of the man he’d prided himself in being, the very opposite of what he strived for. Any morality he ever claimed was taken by the mere thought that he could so easily put his own desires before the lives of those less fortunate than he.

             “Your Majesty – ” Nezumi started, but Shion didn’t want to hear any more, couldn’t stand to hear anything else, could not even look up at the genie, and stared at his hands in his lap, fingers knotting into each other.

            “Please don’t, Nezumi. I’m – I apologize for making you kiss me, that was a violation of your free will and very insensitive of me, I wasn’t thinking. If you’ll excuse me, I have to – I’m feeling sick again – Sorry,” Shion managed, forcing himself to stand up. He passed the genie and was infinitely relieved that Nezumi did not reach out, did not speak to him, let him walk to his room without some other lecture or retort or reminder that humanity inevitably fell into selfishness, and Shion had proved it.

            Safely at his room, Shion closed the bedroom door quietly behind him, then slid down to the floor and buried his face in his knees. He closed his eyes and focused only on not thinking about anything at all.

*


	3. Chapter 3

**Third Wish**

The knock on the door was soft and came hours later, when Shion had taken to pacing his room.

            Wallowing, he knew, was pointless. He could have cured any disease he’d wished, he could have donated any amount of money to any cause, he could have changed any life he chose, but he hadn’t, and it couldn’t be changed.

            He had to accept this, and attempted to as he paced. Self-hatred was not a solution.

            He was reminding himself of this when the knock arrived on the door, and he froze, stared at it for a long moment, then walked towards it and opened it.

            He supposed he could not avoid his genie forever, and, in truth, did not want to.

            The sight of his genie took his breath away, but this was nothing new. Shion was still not accustomed to the genie’s presence in his life, still astounded at his beauty on every glance, still startled by the silver eyes and the weight they left on his skin, and it was better this way.

            After all, Shion had one wish left, and with it, his genie would be leaving his life forever. It would be unwise to allow Nezumi’s presence to become something normal, something routine – never mind that it already was, never mind that as surprising as Nezumi’s presence was, it was also so incredibly natural, never mind that nothing had ever belonged so much as this genie beside him.

            “It might be about time that you stopped beating yourself up, Your Majesty, and come make lunch,” Nezumi was saying, softly. His hands were in his pockets. “I made breakfast, after all, it’s only fair.”

            Shion didn’t know what to do with his own hands, and twisted his fingers around each other. He tried to think of what to say, but there was nothing.

            He wanted to kiss the genie again, but this was absurd, this was the very problem in the first place, perhaps there was alcohol still left in his system.

            Nezumi sighed and pulled a hand from his pocket to weave through his bangs. “No one said you had to save the world, Your Majesty. You altruistic types – You always seemed cocky to me. Thinking you could actually make a difference in three wishes, like humanity is Play-Doh in your hands, I despise it,” Nezumi continued, and Shion unraveled his fingers, exhaled deeply, felt the truth of each of Nezumi’s words, the ache of them.

            He wished he hadn’t opened the door at the soft knock.

            But Nezumi wasn’t done, and reached out, touched Shion’s cheek, triggered the wiry flash of Shion’s pulse instantly, and Shion looked up at him, wondering how the genie could stir such feelings without effort.

            “But you, Shion, you’ve changed my mind. You’re not cocky. You’re hardly confident – not in yourself, at least, but in the rest of the humanity. You don’t see yourself as a god who can change the world, you see the world as something that wants to be changed, that has the capacity to be changed, that just needs the smallest push. You are foolish with hope, but in you I see that hope can be a good thing. I was wrong, Shion, and I’m sorry if I convinced you that the world cannot be changed by one man. It would be a shame if your resolution was so weak as to be destroyed by my cynicism, you know. I thought better of you.”

            Shion blinked, examined Nezumi’s gaze and could find nothing mocking, only the heaviness of his sincerity, of his straightforward tone, honest and blunt as Shion had become accustomed to from his genie.

            “You don’t need magic to change the world, you know. Magic just gets in the way, in my opinion,” Nezumi said, shrugging. “But you have one more wish, if you remember, so don’t be so discouraged.”

            The reminder enabled Shion to speak, and he did so after a deep breath. “Nezumi…Your opinion has greater importance to me than I think even I realized. For you to say such things to me – Thank you, Nezumi,” Shion managed, hoping his words could have a fraction of the weight on Nezumi that the genie’s words had on him.

            The genie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not saying these things to build your confidence, I’m saying them because they’re true,” Nezumi said, but Shion couldn’t help but think that maybe he had both intentions in mind.

            “Even so,” he said, smiling slightly, “thank you. And I think you may have forgotten, but my third wish has already been decided.”

            Nezumi eyes narrowed further, and Shion smiled wider at the familiar expression. “And what is that?” the genie asked, as if he didn’t remember.

            Shion allowed him to pretend and played along. “Your freedom,” he said, gently, and he noticed Nezumi’s fingers skating across the silver cuff on his opposite wrist, probably unconsciously.

            “I’m not asking you to wish for that.”

            “I want to.”

            “Shion, think this through. Your last wish was rashly made, no need to repeat that mistake,” Nezumi said, somewhat harshly.

            Shion crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to regret this. You deserve to be free.”

            “You’re going to prioritize me over the rest of the world? Cure cancer, Shion, do something worthwhile,” Nezumi snapped.

            His eyes flashed, hard silver, and Shion wished he could remember kissing him. He wanted to remember the softness of his genie’s lips. He wanted to remember the warmth of his genie’s breath.

            He wanted to remember what his genie looked like when he wasn’t guarding himself, defending himself, shielding himself from the possibility of being hurt.

            “I have faith in humanity to cure cancer. Maybe not today, and maybe that’s selfish of me, but I can’t pick one disease over another, I can’t choose one cause over the other. I spent weeks trying, but I was never able to. Maybe I am selfish, Nezumi, and maybe that’s okay. You said to start small. Not to try and change every life, but just to pick one. And I’ve realized, you are what is most important to me. I don’t care what you think on the matter, it’s my wish,” Shion said, slowly, carefully, wanting Nezumi to understand, but also coming to terms with the words just as he said them.

            His happiness was no more important than anyone else’s, but it was no less important either, and the same went for his genie. Nezumi deserved one wish, after all that he had granted.

            Nezumi shook his head. “No. I don’t even know if I can do it.”

            “You said you could.”

            “I lied, Your Majesty,” Nezumi said, tiredly, turning and walking away, but Shion followed him, knew that his genie had not been lying before, that he was lying now, although Shion couldn’t entirely understand why.

            “Nezumi, I want to do this. I never wanted three wishes. I gave one to the world, I gave one to myself, and my last one is for you. You won’t change my mind. I just need you to tell me if you’re ready, or if there’s something you need to do to prepare, to make sure you have enough energy – ”

            “Shion!” Nezumi snapped, turning at the kitchen counter, forcing Shion to stop walking so suddenly he nearly crashed into his genie. “Do you even understand what you’re saying? Do you know what will happen to me if you wish for my freedom?” Nezumi demanded, and Shion stared at him, eyes wide.

            “Well, not entirely, but you said you don’t even know – ”

            “I know that it will nearly kill me. It probably will. I’m not supposed to be free, Shion. I was human once, did you know that? Years ago,” Nezumi said, suddenly, voice lowering into something that scared Shion, left his skin cold.

            Shion stopped breathing. He didn’t move. Nezumi was looking at him, but Shion had a feeling he was seeing something else entirely.

            “Everyone I cared about was dying. And so was I, but I didn’t want to. Of course I didn’t, no one wants to die, but I was desperate to survive, Shion, I don’t think many people were as desperate as I. I don’t know if everyone is given the choice between death and the way I currently live, I can’t say, and I don’t care. Even for me, it was never a choice. There weren’t two doors to choose from. There was just desperation, a will to survive, an extraordinary amount of pain that I would never wish for you to imagine, and then there were these,” Nezumi said, quietly, lifting his wrists, and Shion stared at the cuffs for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the hard silver.

            He wanted to reach out, to touch Nezumi, knowing how reassuring the warmth of a human could be, but he couldn’t move his hands from his sides, he couldn’t move at all.

            “This is how it’s meant to be. Yes, I want to be free. But that was never one of my options. You’re smart, Shion, do you understand?”

            Shion swallowed. “So, if I wish for your freedom…does that mean you’ll die?”

            The silver eyes softened, melted just slightly. “As a genie, I’ve learned something, Shion. Sometimes, a wish is just that – a wish. It’s not meant to be reality.”

            Shion shook his head. No, Nezumi would not give up, not so easily, Shion wouldn’t allow it. “What if I wished for you to survive? To be – To be human again. Human and alive and free, Nezumi, if I wish it, you have to do it.”

            “It’s not going to work, Shion. Wish for something else.”

            “I don’t want to.”

            “You said this wish was for me, didn’t you? Then I want something else,” Nezumi said, but Shion shook his head.

            “No.”

            “Yes,” Nezumi countered. “Let’s see. Ah, I’ve got it. Wish for me to kiss you again, that’s what I want.”

            “Nezumi, don’t mock me – ”

            “I’m not mocking you, Your Majesty.”

            Shion didn’t have to listen to this anymore. Nezumi had entirely no say in it.

            It was Shion’s wish, after all, and he reminded himself that this would work, it had to work, he was doing the right thing, Nezumi deserved this, would be able to do this – he was all-powerful, as he’d reminded Shion of so frequently, of course he could do it, how hard could it be?

            Shion took a deep breath, met the wary gaze of his genie. “Nezumi, I wish for you to – ”

            “Stop!” the genie interrupted, and for a third time, Shion felt his lips covered by the genie’s palm, harder against his lips than ever before, his other fist tight around the collar of Shion’s shirt so Shion couldn’t pull away. “Don’t you freaking lick me,” Nezumi warned, eyes slit, but Shion did so anyway.

            This time, however, Nezumi did not recoil, merely grimaced.

            “I’ve been covered with your vomit. It’s going to take more than a lick to get me off you.”

            Shion reached up, attempted to pull Nezumi’s hands away, but Nezumi was stronger, did not budge despite Shion’s increasing efforts of protest, which magnified to include punching the genie’s chest.

            “Will you stop that? Give me a second, Your Majesty, calm down! Just – Ow, did you bite me? Ah, shit – Listen! I’m tired, I’m not – I need time, I need time, Shion, if I’m going to free myself, I need to prepare, okay?” Nezumi shouted, and Shion relaxed, stopped fighting and biting Nezumi’s palm, let his hands drop back to his sides.

            He examined Nezumi’s features, trying to tell if the man was lying.

            “Is it safe to let go of your mouth now?” Nezumi asked, warily, and after another few seconds, Shion nodded.

            Nezumi dropped his hand and wiped his palm on his shirt.

            “You left bite marks,” he complained, examining his palm.

            “Are you lying to me?” Shion demanded, and Nezumi’s palm was back in his face, this time inches from his eyes.

            “Look for yourself, you crazy animal. Why are your teeth so sharp?” Nezumi replied harshly, indignant, but Shion just pushed his hand out of the way.

            “About needing time to prepare. Is that a lie?” Shion asked.

            Nezumi sighed and rubbed his temples. “So irritating… No, it’s not a lie. If you’re really sure about this, then it’s going to be a serious amount of magic, and I’m not at my peak right now, seeing as I spent most of the night cleaning vomit. I’ll need a few days to think about this so I don’t end up killing myself. Is that all right with you, Your Majesty?”

            Shion thought this over, then nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. Shake on it. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me, and I will use my third wish to grant your freedom.”

            Nezumi stared down at Shion’s hand, and Shion watched the rise and fall of his chest before the genie stuck out his own hand, placed it in Shion’s, warm fingers wrapping softly against his as they shook hands.

            “Deal, Your Majesty.”

*

A week passed, and the genie made no mention of his freedom.

            Shion remained silent on the topic of his third wish as well, though he expected it was for different reasons than his genie.

            He figured Nezumi was worried that he would be unable to perform the act, and while Shion had complete faith in him, he knew Nezumi was much less optimistic, much more pragmatic in disposition. Shion’s silence on the subject did not come from fear, but from comfort, and, if he was being truly honest, desire.

            He had become accustomed to his and the genie’s routine. Splayed limbs in the mornings, breakfast for two, Nezumi’s increasing interest for Shakespeare and the nights spent with his low voice filling their small apartment with the Bard’s plays.

            Now that Nezumi’s freedom was imminent, Shion couldn’t help but notice everything that would soon be gone from his life. There was Nezumi’s singing, only provided when the genie showered, and Shion would often stop whatever he was doing to stand by the closed bathroom door and listen to the soft sound mixed with the trickle of the shower spray. There was the inky splay of Nezumi’s hair at night, darkening the pillow they shared. There were the seemingly unconscious touches offered by the genie, fingers casually ruffling through Shion’s hair every time Nezumi walked past, elbows bumping Shion’s as they did the dishes side by side, the genie’s hip pushing Shion aside if he was blocking a cabinet Nezumi needed access to.

            There was the simple reality of the genie’s presence, an easy companionship that was natural, seamless, filled with bickering and laughter, mocking and smirks, narrowed eyes and heavy looks, sarcastic remarks and casual conversation. At some point, the genie had ceased to be a guest in Shion’s house and had become as much a part of Shion’s life as his job, his mother, his daily thoughts. The genie’s silver lamp belonged as much on his nightstand as his desk lamp ever had, was just as natural a sight.

            The fact that the genie was not, in fact, a permanent feature in Shion’s life was becoming more and more difficult to grasp, easier and easier to ignore. Shion pushed it out of his mind, allowing himself to forget about it for most of the day. Only in the nights was Shion reminded, as he often lay awake, watching the genie sleeping beside him, wishing he could reach out and touch the porcelain skin.

            He kept his hands to his side. He had already received a kiss from Nezumi, possibly against the genie’s will. The idea of it was sickening enough, and allowed Shion to refrain from making any more violations of his genie’s body.

            Instead, he watched Nezumi in silence, content to simply be beside him, paying no mind to the ache in his gut at the thought that one day soon, there would be no genie murmuring incoherently next to him, one hand strewn over Shion’s waist and the other curled tight around the blanket he hogged.

*

On one of these nights, nearly two weeks after Shion’s second wish, the genie woke to catch Shion watching him.

            He blinked, silver eyes flashing in the dark room, and Shion blushed, glad of the darkness to hide the tint of his cheeks.

            Nezumi sat up slowly beside Shion, who was leaning against the headboard, knees to his chest.

            “What are you doing?” the genie asked, voice scratchy from sleep.

            Shion shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

            The genie scrutinized him, and Shion glanced at his knees, embarrassed. Sometimes, he was certain that the genie’s eyes were x-raying him, seeing everything he thought, knowing every desire and unspoken wish he had.

            Now was one of those times.

            “Your Majesty, it’s occurred to me for some time now that you’ve been under a misconception. A tragic misconception, at that,” the genie said, softly, after a minute of silence, and Shion peeked up at him.

            Nezumi’s hair curled over his shoulders, wavy from the braid he’d allowed Shion to weave earlier that afternoon in exchange for the last piece of pie that Shion’s mother had dropped off the day before.

            “I’m referring, of course, to that kiss you wished for,” Nezumi continued, when Shion didn’t reply.

            Shion felt his stomach turn, and wrapped his arms around his waist, squeezing his sides. “Nezumi – ”       

            “Shion, shut up before you apologize again and I’m forced to hit you,” the genie sighed, and Shion shut up, as he had indeed been about to apologize.

            He listened to his heart quicken, as it always did when Nezumi said his name.

            “I was waiting for you to figure it out, but in your typical fashion, you’ve been a bit slow on the uptake, and it’s getting rather annoying having to wait for you to catch on,” Nezumi said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

            Shion opened his mouth to ask what on earth Nezumi was talking about, but a look from his genie silenced him.

            “Your second wish, as I’ve mentioned before, was a complete waste,” the genie said, and this time, Shion couldn’t stay silent, heart jarring at the mere mention of it.

            “I’m really sorry, Nezumi, I would never have asked – ”

            “Your Majesty, stop talking,” the genie interrupted mildly. “It was a waste because you didn’t have to wish for me to kiss you. There was never a need for such dramatic measures. Simply asking would have sufficed, or, had it occurred to you, you might have taken the route of a normal person and just done it without needing to say anything at all.”         

            Shion’s heartbeat shook his body. He wondered if it was making the bed underneath them shake. If this was the case, Nezumi gave no acknowledgement of the sudden obtrusive thunder in Shion’s chest.

            “You can speak now,” Nezumi added, between two particularly reverberating beats of Shion’s heart.

            “I guess, I’m not entirely sure what you’re saying,” Shion said quietly.

            “Did I slur my words?” Nezumi asked, and Shion caught the beginnings of his smirk.

            Shion swallowed. Nezumi had spoken quite clearly, but even so, Shion couldn’t be sure that this was not just a dream. “You wanted to kiss me?” he asked, needing clarification, not caring that the genie’s smirk only widened.

            “Past tense is not entirely all-encompassing. Wanted – of course. Still want – just as much, somehow, despite your increasing idiocy,” Nezumi commented casually, as if they weren’t talking about kissing at all – and perhaps they weren’t, Shion could barely hear a word over his heart at this point.

            “You want to kiss me – right now?” Shion asked, desperate for Nezumi to be on the same page as he, certain he was mistaken, waiting for the genie to correct him with an amused laugh.

            “Unfortunately, Your Majesty, that is the case, and has been the case for some time now, as you’ve managed to remain startlingly naïve to,” Nezumi said, nearly a whisper now, like this was some secret he himself wasn’t even sure should be spoken aloud.

            “You want to kiss me?” Shion asked again, even though he was starting to doubt he could have heard the genie incorrectly so many times – maybe now he only wanted the genie to repeat it, over and over, once more after that.

            “I hardly see another idiot in the room to whom I could be referring,” Nezumi sighed, running his hand through his bangs.  “Although the fact that you still haven’t shut your mouth and done it already is really causing some reconsideration on my part.”

            “Done what already? Kissed you?” Shion asked, heat flashing quick across his skin at the thought.

            “Shion, I swear, I’ve come close to murdering some of my masters, but none so much as you. How a person manages to be so irritating without any effort whatsoever is increasingly bewildering to me,” Nezumi groaned, rubbing his temples, and Shion watched him, fascinated, because this beautiful genie had just said that he wanted to kiss him like it was nothing.

            Like it was the truth.

            Shion reached out, wrapped his fingers – which happened to be shaking – gently around the silver cuff on Nezumi’s wrist, and he pulled his genie’s hand away from his temples.

            The genie looked up at him.

            “I think I’m going to kiss you now,” Shion explained, and the genie’s smirk returned.

            “I suppose you’re not completely hopeless after all,” he remarked, and perhaps he was going to say something else, but Shion would hardly know, as he had leaned in by this point, and his lips were on Nezumi’s before he could think of any other reason for them not to be.

            This time, he catalogued every aspect of the kiss, ensuring that it would never escape his memory.

            The startled inhale of his genie, a cool intake of air that Nezumi stole from Shion’s mouth. It skated over his lips, contrasting the warmth of the soft lips.

            The increased pressure from his genie, after a moment, when Nezumi leaned closer to him, and the melding of their mouths.

            The warmth of the genie’s fingers, falling through Shion’s hair like droplets of rain that trickled over his scalp, the feeling of which dissolved over every inch of Shion’s skin.

            The opening of lips, maybe his, maybe the genie’s, maybe both, and the breaths traded between them, snaking into Shion’s mouth in a heated mist.

            The taste of his genie, when their tongues touched, slimy and thick and indescribably warm. He tasted of sleep and wetness and what Shion was suddenly certain a heartbeat must taste like, if it could be bottled into a flavor.

            The sound of loud breaths, louder when they parted only for the briefest of moments, only so that they could come together again; Shion opened his eyes just momentarily so he could glimpse again the beauty of the man he kissed.

            It was enough to melt him. As much as he’d ached to kiss his genie before, now he only ached more. Even as he kissed him, the hollow in the core of his body grew. He kissed the genie harder in an attempt to fill it, but still, the added pressure only had the opposite effect, and when the genie’s hand fell on his waist, bunched his t-shirt and pulled Shion closer, he only felt hollower still.

            He was not sure why it hurt so much, this incredible feeling. He did not know what to do with his increasing desperation but to continuing kissing his genie, now along the genie’s neck, feeling the genie’s lips in his hair, hearing the genie’s exhale tinged with the hoarse slip of a voice against his eardrum. In a cycle, Shion’s desire for Nezumi grew, as did his satisfaction of it, hands slipping under the genie’s shirt, fingers skating over the genie’s warm and untraced skin.

            “Your Majesty,” the genie murmured at one point, against Shion’s throat, over his pulse – when had his lips gotten there? “It’s okay to slow down a little. We have time,” he said, as perhaps he sensed Shion’s desperation – in truth, it must have been impossible not to.

            Shion was in Nezumi’s lap now – when had he done that? His arms were around Nezumi’s neck, his hands deep in the genie’s hair. He failed to reply because his breaths were coming too hard and fast to allow words in between.

            It was better, that he could not reply. He did not know what he might have said. There was no way to word the ache in his body for this genie, no way for him to make Nezumi understand how much desire he felt, more than any wish could grant, more than any touch could satisfy.

            Only time, Shion suspected, could fill the hollow. Only forever, he was certain, would suffice.

            And though Nezumi had said they had time, forever was by no means what he’d meant.

            There was the third wish, after all, and it needed to be granted.

            Shion kissed the genie and tried to forget.

*

Their routine, after that night, continued in more or less the same manner, but for a few subtle changes.

            The limbs strewn over Shion’s body in the mornings were not so often clothed. When the genie joined Shion for breakfast, his hand would linger on the small of Shion’s back in greeting, and “Good morning, Your Majesty” would often be whispered into Shion’s neck with the slightest pressure of lips.

            When Shion dressed for work and Nezumi watched him in the doorway, the genie often drift forward, remove the button-up shirt Shion had just donned, slide quick hands over Shion’s torso, distract Shion with a stolen kiss against the wall before Shion pushed him away, unable to look at him for fear of giving in to the genie’s vulgar requests, offered through a grin.

            In the afternoons when Shion returned, he would look over the paperwork for the greenhouse in bed rather than at the kitchen table. He leaned against Nezumi’s chest, and the genie played absently with his hair while he continued to read his plays.

            Dinners were more often burned than not, as the stove was left on and forgotten while distractions got in the way, leading to the fire alarm going off sometime later and Shion finding himself back on his kitchen table, waving a towel and cursing and wearing just his socks while Nezumi yelled at him from their bedroom to hurry up and come back, let the damn apartment burn down for all he cared, it was cruel and unusual punishment to simply leave seconds before his climax.

            The only continuation of their routine from before their first sober kiss was that the third wish was not mentioned. It hid in their silences and prodded their shared glances, but it was steadfastly ignored by both human and genie, who were, it seemed, falling rather recklessly in love.

*

“Your Majesty,” Nezumi said, announcing his presence into the kitchen one Sunday afternoon.

            Shion was at the table, eating strawberries and looking at house listings online.

            His apartment, after all, had been rented in mind for one occupant.

            “Hey,” Nezumi said, kicking Shion lightly under the table, and Shion glanced up to see that his genie had sat across from him.

            He smiled in reflex. “Hey, yourself.”

            Nezumi did not smile back. “Look, we’ve got to talk.”

            Shion scrutinized his genie’s serious expression, then closed his laptop, wondering what it could be.

            The unspoken third wish was not even on his mind. It had been four months since their first mutually remembered kiss. Shion hardly registered the fact that his companion came with cuffs on his wrists.

            “What is it?” he asked, picking up another strawberry and biting into it. It was incredibly sweet.

            “I’m ready now,” Nezumi said, slowly, watching Shion carefully as he spoke.

            Shion placed the stem of his eaten strawberry back in the bowl. “Ready?”

            “For you to wish for my freedom, Your Majesty.”

            Shion stared. “What?” he asked, voice dropping without his permission.

            Nezumi placed his folded hands on the table in front of him. “We agreed. When I was prepared, you would wish for my freedom. Do you not recall?”

            There was no emotion in his features. Just the closed expression that Shion hadn’t seen in months.

            Shion blinked, leaned back. “Nezumi – Why are you asking this? Why are you saying this now?”

            “Do you remember our deal?” the genie repeated, voice toneless and face blank.

            Shion shook his head, narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I guess – Yes, I remember, of course I do, but – ”

            “The fact that I am your genie and you are my master has not changed. You are required to make three wishes, and I am required to grant them. That’s how this works,” Nezumi said, voice no longer completely emotionless – there was an undercurrent of cold, a tinge of hardness.

            “Nezumi, I – That’s not – I don’t think of myself as – Do you still regard me as your master? Is that what this is, what this has been?” Shion asked, nearly repulsed, stomach turning, skin chilled.

            Nezumi unwound his hands from each other and laid them flat on the kitchen table. “It’s not a matter of what you think or what I think, it’s a matter of what the reality is.”

            Shion ground his teeth, tried to keep calm, stay rational. “I don’t understand. Nezumi, I don’t understand what you’re saying. This is our reality. Us. Right now.”

            “No, it’s not. It’s a fantasy that I’ve let us pretend, but it’s time to acknowledge that this can’t last,” Nezumi replied, voice steady whereas Shion was shaking.

            “Why not? Why can’t it last?”

            Nezumi finally looked away from Shion. He stared at his hands on the table, or more likely the cuffs on his wrists, Shion realized, and then he spoke again. “I’m still a genie, Your Majesty. I’m still bound by certain rules.” He glanced up, looked at Shion heavily. “You have to make your third wish. Break our deal if you must, but it’s time.”

            Shion stood up, the legs of his chair scraping hard and loud against the linoleum. He was hot and too aware of his stammering heartbeat.

            “No – No, you said, the very first day, I asked if there was a time limit, and you said I could have as long as I needed – ”

            “The rules change if you have no intention of making a third wish at all. That is the case now, is it not?”

            “What if it is? Why does it matter? Fine, you want me to have an intention to make a third wish? When we’re old and I’m on my deathbed, I’ll wish for something, okay? Will that suffice?” Shion demanded.

            He was gripping the edge of the table, holding himself steady, staring down at his genie, who watched him unravel impassively.

            “No, it won’t, actually.”

            “Why? Why not? What’s going to happen? You can’t make me wish for anything, you know. What are you going to do?” Shion asked. He was nearly shouting, he realized. He had to calm down, but then, he was pretty sure Nezumi was calm enough for the both of them.

            “Your Majesty. Stop shouting. I realize that my silence on the topic of wishes has perhaps created expectations from you about a future we simply cannot have. I apologize for my bad foresight. It was a mistake. I didn’t wish to hurt you or disappoint you.”

            Shion listened to his genie’s leveled speech as if through a tunnel. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what Nezumi was trying to tell him.

            Expectations? Disappoint? What was he even talking about?

            “Nezumi – Nezumi, just stop. I don’t know what you’re saying. I don’t know what you’re implying.”

            “I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you what has to be done. You need to make your third wish. I need to do my job. It’s not a debate.”

            Shion concentrated on breathing. He tried to think. He tried to understand, and only one conclusion came to him, a thought that ripped him open, that forced his hands into fists, made his voice small when he tried to word his fears. “Okay. Okay, are you saying – Is this what you want? Nezumi, it’s okay, of course it’s okay, if you’d rather – If you don’t want this, what we’ve been doing, I understand, of course I don’t feel the same way, but I understand, I’m not trying to keep you prisoner, I have no intention of keeping you here against your will – ” his voice was cracking, breaking on the edges to reveal the state of his heart, and he shuddered with his breath, couldn’t look at the genie and instead blinked quickly at the edge of the table.

            He took a step back, sat down again, not sure his legs could hold him, the energy from his confusion dissolving into weakness at his realization.

            “That’s not – Your Majesty – Shit.”

            Shion listened to the scratching of chair legs against linoleum, and then his chin was tipped up by cool fingers, and he was forced to look up at the silver eyes that were no longer cool, that were warm and concerned and soft.

            “Shion, hey, don’t cry,” Nezumi murmured, fingertips brushing the bottoms of Shion’s eyes.

            Shion swallowed thickly, tried to compose himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what you wanted, I didn’t know – ”

            “Hey, shut up, you’re overthinking things again with that big brain of yours. I should have known you’d draw up ridiculous conclusions.”

            Shion sniffed loudly, let Nezumi weave his fingers through his hair, didn’t speak because he didn’t understand.

            “Look. You’re not under any misconception about the way I feel about you, all right? Well, you weren’t until you started spouting that nonsense about me being here against my will or kept prisoner or whatever it was you were blubbering.”

            “Nezumi – ”

            “Shh, my turn to talk, you’ve done quite enough of that for now. I shouldn’t have tried to do this the way I did. I thought if I put distance – Well, what I thought is irrelevant, it didn’t work, I get that, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to belittle the meaning of my presence here, of our lives here as they’ve been for the past few months. It’s important that you understand that. Do you understand that? Give a nod if you do, Your Majesty, no need to get verbal again.”

            Shion treaded through Nezumi’s words. He wanted to understand, wanted Nezumi’s words to mean what he thought he understood, but they clearly couldn’t, as that wouldn’t account for why the genie was reminding him of his third wish.

            “You’re not nodding,” Nezumi commented with a sigh. His hand was still in Shion’s hair, and trickled down, fingers tracing Shion’s jawline.

            “I can’t understand why you want to leave, if you really feel the way I thought you did,” Shion murmured, and Nezumi’s fingers lifted to his lips, fell against them gently.

            “Shh. That’s what I’m explaining now. Shion, as much as I prefer I didn’t, I have a duty as a genie to grant three wishes. You know that. I have to do this. There are no loopholes. And yes, there is no time limit as I confirmed the first day we met, but that rule only holds so long as my master, in this case you, Your Majesty, is actively thinking of wishes. You know your third wish, I believe. And in the previous months, you’ve lost any intention of wishing it. That is something that I, as much as I might want to, cannot ignore.”

            “Why not?”

            “I don’t have an answer for you. I can’t explain this. For the intents of your ridiculous need to understand everything you’re confronted with – even when that something is as inexplicable as a genie – let’s just say your deepening denial of my existence as your genie builds up a sort of pressure in me, something tangible that I cannot really continue ignoring much longer.”

            Shion leaned back, appalled. “Are you in pain?”

            “No, nothing like that. Stop trying to force your human mind to comprehend it, will you? What you need to know is that I’m not really allowed to linger wherever I please and forget the fact that I’m a genie. I’m not free, Shion. Even when you made me feel as though I was, it could only ever be temporary,” Nezumi said, and he lifted his wrists.

            The silver cuffs shone in the light of the kitchen. Shion reached out, touched one with the tip of his finger, felt the icy chill travel up his arm.

            “How long do we have?” he asked, quietly, glancing back up at Nezumi, who too was looking at the cuffs.

            “I waited as long as I could. Like I said, you weren’t under any misconception. I wanted my life here, Shion. It was better than any freedom I can imagine will be in store for me.”

            Now. He was saying he had to leave right now, and Shion understood this completely, felt his hands wrapping around Nezumi’s cuffed wrists instinctively at the thought.

            “What if I wished for you to stay here?”

            _Let me wish for you, Nezumi._

_Let me wish for us._

            Nezumi looked up from his wrists. “I can’t do unlimiteds, Shion. If you wished for me to stay, I could only do so for a limited amount of time, and it would only be my magic keeping me here, which – well, you know what using magic does to me. I wouldn’t be able to stay for long. I’m not powerful enough to stay for long.”

            He had said he was an all-powerful genie. Shion never imagined Nezumi would admit to any weakness. To hear the words from his genie’s lips was strange.

            He let go of Nezumi’s wrists.

            He forced himself to nod. “Okay. I understand, Nezumi. Are you ready for me to make my wish?”

            There were thoughts of a last kiss, but a kiss wouldn’t suffice, and a last anything wouldn’t be enough. Besides, he didn’t think his genie would allow it. Nezumi was already stepping away from him, only a small fraction of the distance that would soon be between them.

            Nezumi looked around the kitchen, and Shion wondered what he was looking for. He watched Nezumi take a deep breath, the way it rose his chest and lifted his shoulders, the way it dropped them both down.

            Nezumi looked at Shion with silver eyes that reflected Shion’s own gaze back at him. He nodded.

            Shion closed his eyes. He wanted to stall, but he understood now that Nezumi had been stalling since he’d granted Shion’s second wish. There was no time left.

            He opened his eyes, inhaled deeply, practiced the words in his head before opening his lips and offering them to the genie he’d accidentally fallen in love with. “I wish for your freedom, Nezumi.”

            The genie exhaled. “Your wish has been granted, Your Majesty,” he said, just a whisper; on his last syllable, the cuffs snapped off his wrists. They fell to Shion’s kitchen floor and clanged loudly on the linoleum in a way that distracted Shion so that he took to staring at the silver cuffs instead of his genie.

            When they stilled on the linoleum, he looked up again to see that his genie had gone completely pale, snow-white skin fading into sickly transparency so that the blue of his veins was too visible. He was breathing deeply, eyes on Shion, but there was no weight to his gaze, and Shion wondered if he could see anything at all.

            Shion took a step forward as Nezumi swayed on the spot. One of the genie’s pale hands reached out, grasped the edge of the kitchen table as if to steady himself, but his fingers slipped over the wood, and then he was falling back, crumpling until Shion caught him by the waist as he had on the afternoon of his first wish, so long ago.

            “Nezumi,” Shion said urgently, holding the genie up, stepping forward to push him into a kitchen chair, gripping his hands steadily on Nezumi’s shoulders.

            The genie’s skin was ice cold, as cold as the lamp he’d emerged from, and it was almost painful for Shion to touch him even through the fabric of his shirt. Nezumi’s head rolled forward, and Shion unleashed one shoulder in order to cup his chin, hold his head up, look into his eyes, but they were closed now.

            His lips were slackened, his arms limp by his side.

            “Nezumi,” Shion repeated, louder this time, leaning closer, kneeling beside his genie, speaking as sternly as he could, pretending his own insides were not crumbling. “Nezumi, I know you can do this. I know you can come back to me. Nezumi, I know you’re strong enough to survive!”

            The genie did not stir.

*

He only noticed it after he carried Nezumi’s limp body to his bed and laid him down.

            Shion was about to check for his pulse – or at least, begin to gather the courage to do so – when he looked at the genie’s hand and wondered if he was seeing things.

            Nezumi’s skin was turning silver.

            The tips of his fingers had surpassed transparent, were moving on to a different shade, and Shion reached out, his own fingers shaking, skated them over Nezumi’s skin.

            It was cool as ice and nearly as hard, streaks of silver stretching over it, creeping over the back of Nezumi’s hands alongside his veins, trickling along the insides of his wrists, reaching up to his elbows. Shion stared, certain he was going crazy, but a minute passed and the silver did not disappear.

            Instead, it spread, further up Nezumi’s arm, disappearing into the sleeve of his t-shirt. Shion noticed then that tendrils of silver were creeping up out the collar of Nezumi’s shirt as well, crawling up his neck, coloring the underside of his chin, curling around his jawline.

            As the silver slowly encased more and more of Nezumi’s skin, Shion realized he knew the color – it was the same silver of the genie’s eyes, but he could not double check, as his genie’s eyes remained closed. Instead, he turned to the nightstand to compare the color to the lamp that matched Nezumi’s eyes, but the lamp was missing.

            Shion stared at his nightstand for another few seconds, then ran to his kitchen, but the silver cuffs were absent from the linoleum where they had fallen what seemed like hours before. He got on his knees, checked under the kitchen table, peered under the fridge, but the cuffs were gone.

            Shion got up slowly from the ground, walked shakily back to his bedroom, stopped outside his door and braced himself before entering to note numbly that Nezumi was nearly entirely silver now. Shion stared at his reflection, showcased over Nezumi’s limbs, revealed on his high cheekbones, looking back at him from Nezumi’s forehead, where Shion had swept back his bangs.

            On looking at the genie’s hair, Shion noted that it too seemed different, and he reached out, realized that while it had always been the color of rust, it was now as just as hard. It rustled under Shion’s fingertips instead of coating them like silk in the way Shion had become accustomed.

            Shion retracted his hand, held it to his own chest, felt his heart beating hard against his skin, reminding him that he was supposed to be checking for a pulse. He forced himself to reach out again, to press his hand against the fabric of Nezumi’s t-shirt above his heart, to endure the sting of cold that slipped through the t-shirt and nipped at his palm.

            He held his breath and waited, pressing his hand further down.

            “Nezumi,” he whispered, looking only at Nezumi’s closed eyelids, the only part of him now that wasn’t silver. “Nezumi, come back, come on, Nezumi, you can do this. Can you hear me? Nezumi, give me a sign that you can hear me, you’ve got to try, you can’t just – You can’t just leave me, okay?”

            Shion’s own heartbeat rocketed in his ribcage, mocked the silence of Nezumi’s chest, but Shion would not give up, would not allow himself to give up, and instead took his hand away only to slip it under Nezumi’s t-shirt, to press it against the hard silver of his skin.

            His palm was nearly numb from the cold. He pressed harder.

            “Nezumi, come back to me, come back to me,” Shion pleaded, kneeling beside his bed, pressing his forehead to the cool of Nezumi’s forearm.

            And then he felt it. A distinct pulsing from Nezumi’s body, reaching up into his palm, spreading over his arm. Shion was reminded of the first time he’d held the lamp on the beach, how he’d felt it shaking, how he hadn’t been certain whether it was his own heartbeat shaking his body so violently that the movement he detected was only an illusion.

            He was not certain now, either, but still, he moaned in relief, lifted his head from his genie’s arm and gazed at his genie’s face.

            “I know you’re still in there. I know you’re still fighting,” he said, voice shaking along with the rest of his body. He blinked back the stinging in his eyes.

            And then he noticed the silver creeping back from Nezumi’s eyelids, falling away from his cheekbones, sliding back down his jawline.

            Shion took his hand from Nezumi’s chest, brushed his fingers instead over the pale skin of Nezumi’s face, stood up so he could lean over the genie and press his lips alongside his fingers, hide his hopeful smile in Nezumi’s cool skin.

            “I will wait for you. Come back to me, Nezumi, come back,” Shion whispered.

            He leaned away to watch more of the silver ebb from Nezumi’s snow-white skin. After an hour, his genie was nearly back to normal, but for the streaks that had begun in his fingers and along the backs of his hands.

            Shion lay beside Nezumi and wrapped his fingers around those of his genie, ignoring the cold, waiting for the warmth that he knew to return.

*

Nezumi did not wake the next morning.

            He offered no traditional sign of life – no breath from his lips, and with Shion’s pulse always rampant when he touched his genie, he could never be sure whether he was feeling his genie’s heartbeat or the echo of his own when he tried to check.

            The only change in Nezumi’s state came from his color. Shion began to notice that the longer he touched his genie, the more the silver retreated. After a night beside his genie, the silver had retracted to only the last two segments of his fingers.

            It was Monday, but Shion didn’t go to work. He sat beside his genie and read Shakespeare aloud, tripping over the words Nezumi had so effortlessly recited. He read slowly, having none of Nezumi’s grace, and every few lines he would pause, wait to hear the familiar mockery of his genie, to hear the amusement of his derision.

            Nezumi’s silence filled these pauses. Shion read on. He ignored his desperation, the cracks in his voice, the hitches in his own breath.

            He only cried once, in the shower, and checked his eyes to make sure they weren’t red before returning to his bedroom, as if his genie was awake to see.

*

By Thursday, Shion had to return to work.

            He explained this to his unconscious genie while he dressed in front of him.

            “I can’t stay here again, there’s only so much work I can get done from home. I’ll be back soon, Nezumi, I promise. You have to hang in there while I’m away. You can’t give up while I’m gone. Do you understand me?”

            His genie did not reply. Shion pressed his lips to Nezumi’s cool temple, gave him another second to wake up, another moment to respond, another chance to come back to him, but Nezumi did not, so Shion left.

*

On his return from work, the silver had worked its way back up to Nezumi’s shoulders, crept back over Nezumi’s jawline. Shion pretended he wasn’t panicking, pretended he wasn’t breaking inside. Instead, he spoke to his genie about his day at work like it was any other day, he read to his genie from the plays he was slowly getting better at articulating, he reminded his genie that he needed to come back soon.

            By the time night fell, the silver had slipped back down to his wrists, and Shion felt as though he could breathe again.

            Thus began a new routine.

            It was distinctly more painful than Shion’s previous routines, but most similar to that of when he’d first found the lamp. Whereas months ago, he had been plagued by the need to check that the unrubbed lamp was still on his nightstand, now Shion was constantly desperate to check on Nezumi, to see that the silver had not encased his skin, to ensure that this one sign of life keeping Shion together still remained.

            Despite the ebb and flow of silver creeping over his skin, there was no change in Nezumi, but there were other changes in Shion’s life.

            He purchased several more blankets, as sleeping beside his cool-skinned genie left him sniffling and sneezing into the morning. He became a pro at reading Shakespeare, and devoured every one of the Bard’s plays beside his genie, then read them a second time. He also read documents from work to Nezumi, and even once read the Terms and Conditions section of his old phone manual that he found in a drawer one day when he was looking for more reading material.

            He resumed cooking meals for one, but could never quite get the serving size right.

            He began to prefer the cold to warmth, and touched Nezumi’s skin not to feel if there was any heat, but to chill the tips of his fingers, to savor the bite of his wintry flesh.

            It was twenty-seven days before Nezumi opened his eyes.

*

Shion was reading _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_.

            “ ‘ “…are blinded,” said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more – ’ ”

            The flicker of silver should have gone unnoticed, but Shion was highly alert for flashes of the color he had come to dread, and glanced down at his genie instinctively.

            On seeing his open eyes, Shion dropped his book, hovered over the man.

            “Nezumi! Nezumi, you’re awake!” Shion shouted, just as the eyes closed again, and Shion was left to breathe heavily onto his genie’s face, wondering if he’d just imagined it.

            It had been a while since he’d felt hope, and now it surged through him again, cruel and painful, hot and agonizing. Shion pressed his forehead to Nezumi’s, relished in the chill that swept through his body, wished for the numbness of cold over the heat produced by his newly awakened heart.

            “Nezumi, come back. I’m waiting, I’m still waiting,” Shion whispered, a mantra that was his new routine, stale on his tongue, weak on his breath, limp on his lips.

            The problem was that no matter how desperate Shion was for Nezumi to wake, his genie had already granted him three wishes, and it was simply fact that no genie ever granted a fourth.

            Perhaps it was a good thing, then, that Shion never quite had that grasp on reality that Nezumi insisted was necessary, or else he might not have waited four more days, when the genie woke for real.

*

This time, Shion was not in the same room.

            He was in the kitchen, making dinner for one, a grilled cheese, to be exact, while on a conference call.

            The greenhouse was finally ready to be opened, and Shion finished smoothing out the details of this grand opening as he ate his grilled cheese. He hung up the phone, feeling a rare sense of accomplishment, a sense of satisfaction that was a nice break from his new routine, and then there was another break in routine in the form of a faint call.

            “Shion?”

            Shion froze, glass of water in hand, and cocked his ear to his bedroom, trying to hear over his heart, which hadn’t been so loud in quite some time.

            “Your Majesty…”

            The kitchen chair nearly overturned in Shion’s haste to stand up, run to his bedroom, stop at his bedroom door to see his genie sitting up in bed, pale but snowy-skinned, not a trace of silver in sight but for his hands and fingers and, of course, his eyes, finally opened again.

            They fell on Shion lightly, not nearly the same weight behind them as Shion was used to, but he could not say he minded one bit.

            It would have been easy to collapse against the doorway, but Shion managed to make it to the bed, kneeled by Nezumi’s side and realized he was still holding his glass of water, which he offered the bleary-eyed genie.

            “Nezumi – ” he started, but his voice cut off, and he could manage nothing else, instead focused on tipping the glass of water against his genie’s lips, his hand shaking the cup despite his concentration.

            “Am I alive, or are you dead?” Nezumi asked, when the cup was empty, and Shion ducked his head against Nezumi’s hip so the genie would not see his burning eyes.

            “Nezumi,” he breathed, into Nezumi’s side, feeling the familiar fingers in his hair a second later, and they were cool, but not quite freezing. “Nezumi…”

            “Hey, Your Majesty, I was joking, I know I’m alive. It’s all right now.”

            Shion looked up, felt Nezumi’s fingers leave his hair, watched as the genie examined his hands curiously.

            “The silver is new,” he commented.

            “Nezumi, I thought – I didn’t know – ”

            “Just as articulate as when I left you, I see,” Nezumi said, cool fingertips catching the tears before they slid down Shion’s face. He cupped his palm, and Shion rested his cheek into it, blinked up at the gentle eyes of his genie that, despite his lighthearted words, watched him in concern.

            “I missed you,” Shion confessed, turning his face slightly so that his lips were against the genie’s palm, wanting to stifle his confession.

            “I’m here to stay now, I think. Be careful what you wish for, as the saying goes,” Nezumi said lightly, and Shion forced himself to stand up, felt Nezumi’s hand fall from his face.

            He leaned over his genie, kissed him softly on the lips, felt the warmth of his genie’s skin.

            “It’s okay to be serious, you know. It’s okay to be sincere,” he said after the kiss, inches from Nezumi’s lips, as far as he was willing to stray for the time being.

            Nezumi looked up at him, silver eyes drifting lightly over Shion’s features, and then he nodded. “You’re right. I missed you too, of course, which I’m sure you already know, but since you seem to want to hear it, I’d be happy to oblige. Anything for Your Majesty, as always.”

            Shion smiled, surprised at the ease of it after so long. “That’s better, thank you.”

            Nezumi caught Shion’s hand, held it up and flattened his hand against it, and Shion followed suit, their palms against each other, fingers fanned. Nezumi’s fingers were longer, and the silver tips peeked over the top of Shion’s.

            They both watched as the silver of Nezumi’s hand faded until it painted just his fingers, and then just his fingertips, and then it was gone completely, and Nezumi’s hand felt familiarly warm against Shion’s own.

            “Ah,” Nezumi exhaled, a tone of surprise, and Shion watched him curiously.

            “What?”

            “I didn’t realize it, but I can feel the difference… Shion, do you know what that silver was?”

            Shion shook his head. It was everything he hated. It was danger, it was hopelessness, it was cold, it was wrong.

            “It was magic,” Nezumi replied, and Shion stared.

            “Are you sure? It was killing you, I think.”

            “Yes. I told you, magic destroys. Surviving without it wasn’t supposed to be an option. But you made it one. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

            Shion smiled again, folded his fingers around Nezumi’s, and Nezumi’s curled around his own hand likewise. “It wasn’t an entirely selfless wish. You were right, in that I’d give in to selfishness.”

            “You didn’t know I’d survive.”

            “I believed you’d come back to me,” Shion replied, and Nezumi’s smirk flickered along his lips, so ridiculously familiar that Shion felt his heart swelling almost painfully in his chest at just the sight.

            “Hm, that’s not selfish, Your Majesty, that’s self-centered.”

            “I missed your voice,” Shion replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

            “Are you trying to prove you’re not self-centered by changing the subject?”

            “And the silk of your hair,” Shion added, reaching out with his free hand, weaving his fingers through Nezumi’s bangs, soft again.

            Nezumi shook his head. “Still shamelessly wording every thought that comes to your head, I see.”

            “And the warmth of your lips,” Shion murmured, letting his hand fall to Nezumi’s mouth, tracing the lips with his fingers, and they parted over his fingertips, warm breath skating on his skin.

            “Your Majesty, how long is this going to take you? I need to use the bathroom, it’s been a while, you know.”

            Shion nodded, intended to get up to allow his genie to get off the bed, but instead he just leaned forward, ended up pressing his face into his genie’s chest, realized his arms were winding around his genie’s torso, and there was nothing he could do, really, but press his body as close to his genie’s as he could.

            “Ah, you don’t have to squeeze so tight, I’m not going anywhere,” Nezumi murmured, and Shion could feel his lips brushing the top of his head.

            Shion listened to the genie’s heartbeat, pressed against his cheek, then pulled away slowly, leaving his hands curled around the genie’s shirt.

            “I thought you couldn’t promise unlimiteds,” Shion said, and Nezumi smiled lightly, reached out and traced the scar on Shion’s cheek.

            “I’m no longer a genie, Your Majesty, and I’m not granting anymore wishes. The old rules don’t quite apply anymore.”

            “You don’t have to call me Your Majesty anymore, then,” Shion replied.

            “Old habits die hard, Your Majesty. Now really, I must insist it’s in your best interest to let me up.”

            Shion uncurled his fingers from Nezumi’s shirt, stood up from the bed, and watched his genie – who was not his genie anymore, he reminded himself, though it would be difficult to wrap his head around this – slide to the edge of the bed, wincing.

            Nezumi braced his hands against the mattress and pushed up, and then he was standing, wobbling slightly, so Shion stepped forward and caught his arm to steady him.

            “I’ve got you, Nezumi.”

            He expected the man to pull away, but instead, Nezumi leaned against him, his weight light but warm.

            “I know you do, Shion,” he replied.

*

The fact that his genie was no longer a genie led to one major change, which Shion brought up a few days later, giving Nezumi some time to recuperate.

            They were in the kitchen, Nezumi at the table looking at the houses that Shion had bookmarked on his laptop, and Shion trying to scrub out the tea-stains from their mugs at the sink.

            He put down his scrubbing brush and eyed his former genie, who was scrolling listlessly, cheek propped up by his palm.

            “Nezumi, there’s something we have to talk about.”

            “I like the house with the two bathrooms. I’m tired of you yelling at me to get out of the shower.”

            “None of the ones I bookmarked have two bathrooms. Are you looking at my list?” Shion asked sternly.

            The former genie glanced up at him. “No,” he said, completely unashamed.

            “Well, this is relevant to that anyway. Now that you’re not a genie, I technically don’t have to provide housing and food.”

            “You kicking me out, Your Majesty?” Nezumi asked, smirking at the laptop screen.

            “No, I’m informing you that you need to get a job. We’re going to cosign the lease on the new house, which means you’ll be paying half.”

            “So stingy all of a sudden, aren’t you? This wouldn’t have been a problem if you’d just wished for money. Technically, this is entirely your fault, and you should be punished by having to pay my half,” Nezumi replied.

            “I’ve been looking around, and there’s a local theater that I think you should audition for,” Shion continued, ignoring his former genie’s complaints. He had expected such resistance anyway, and wasn’t particularly bothered, as he knew Nezumi was just joking.

            “Theater?” Nezumi asked, looking up again, the skeptical expression that arose natural over his features, which were, to Shion’s delight, just as unnaturally stunning even though he was no longer magical.

            “Well, yeah. I was just thinking, since you’re so good at reading plays, and you always use different voices and really get across the emotion, plus you’re melodramatic – I thought the theater could be a good fit for you.”

            “Hey, I’m not melodramatic,” Nezumi snapped, eyes flashing in a melodramatic manner, and Shion merely smiled.

            “It was just a suggestion. Something to consider. In the meantime, my mom said that since you help out around the bakery so often anyway, she could hire you. Except she doesn’t want you baking, so you’d be strictly cleaning.”

            “I only burnt the scones once,” Nezumi snapped. “And I swear your mom said salt that one time, not sugar.”

            “Nezumi, let’s not start this again.”

            “Whatever, I’m not taking money from your mother.”

            “So you’ll audition for the theater?” Shion asked, eagerly. “It’ll be so great, I just know you’ll get a part. You’ll be amazing on stage, I can already envision it. What kind of costumes do you think they’ll make you wear? Will you have to wear make-up? I heard even guy actors have to wear make-up, just to amplify their features. Not that yours need amplification, they’re already so striking, but even so – ”

            “Okay! Listen, if you stop going on about it, I’ll look into that theater of yours. Just stop talking, you’re completely insane,” Nezumi muttered.

            “Oh, great, Nezumi! I’m so excited!”

            “Yeah, well, be excited a little more quietly, will you?” Nezumi grumbled, looking rather disgruntled and glaring back at the laptop screen.

            Shion grinned and turned back to the mugs, looking forward to whatever new routine would arise with his former genie granting his unspoken wish of forever.

 

THE END


End file.
